Dark Humor
by Egads-Peril
Summary: EdxEnvy, mpreg: Envy plays a prank on Ed, but as it turns out, the joke's on him. Or at least, 9 months of maternity dresses are. COMPLETE  Repost for original author
1. Created Soul

**Disclaimer:**** This story is reposted from another account. I am still me, but secret me.**

**Warnings**: **Major****Spoilers,****Violence,****Bad****Language,****MPREG**.

**Notes**: Dark Humor is set before the final war in Liore where Ed is not quite the emotional wreck suffering from the effects of Impotent Hero Syndrome and Al is his usual metal self and not lit up like a Vegas Christmas tree. Both brothers have checked off all of the homunculi on their hit lists - save Pride - and remain unaware of the identity of the psychotic, Martha Stewart wannabe controlling them. Unbeknownst to the Elric duo, but knowst to us: they're really better off that way.

_If you're uncomfortable about the notion of boys getting knocked up by other boys, I suggest you don't read on... Unfortunately, I have to as I am the author._

**Dark****Humor**.

_Part the One: Mis-Conceptions._

Envy hadn't planned to take the joke as far as he had, but because the situation had become so ridiculous he simply couldn't help himself. Charged with the task of obtaining Edward Elric's regimental silver watch – proof of his induction into the State Alchemist Corps - Envy had decided to make the notably tedious mission a trite more enjoyable by taking acquisition the object in the most interesting way he possibly could. While Dante had hammered out, in her usual, no-nonsense, schoolhouse tone, that neither of boys were to be damaged until they became Philosopher's Stone fodder - _in__any__shape__or__form.__If__you__get__marks__on__them__I'll__be__very__cross!_– Envy knew that he could, at the very least, get in a bit of sport without splintering the rules _too__much_; he had to admit, shaving a few slivers of pride off an Elric was just as good as barbecuing the shrimpy twerp with the fuel of his own temper.

Now, thanks to his quick, sly inspection the last time he'd swung by Ed and Al's apartment in the guise of a cheerful doorstep salesman who happened to require the nuisance of the time, Envy was confident that the alchemist kept his watch in the pocket of his leather trousers; so the trick was that he somehow had to separate the item of clothing from the young Alchemist himself.

A task that, no doubt, required a subtler craftsmanship, than shouting: _"Oi,__Eddie!__Got__the__time__on__your__cock?"_

To all intents and purposes, the cheap, classless Central City whore had accomplished the relatively simple job of removing Ed's pants without so much as busting out a set square; yet she had gone one step further in her performance by thoroughly indulging in the mood of her illicit role. Currently, Envy pondered his success as an actor as, in an irresistible choice of female form, he ground his body over Edward's slim hips; emitting lungful after lungful of horrible, simpering bleats as he did so. And while Edward writhed below him - pawing hopelessly at the Sin's thighs with clammy, helpless fingers – Envy stared back coolly; his face a mask of exotic impassiveness. It was a fact that the eternal homunculi took no pleasure in the act of intercourse itself – carnal enjoyment was not part of the Sin package, since they were pretty much out of the evolutionary _cul__de__sac_ for good – but it was a shame unrealized by a select few of the homunculi community; namely those who had expired before adolescence made its rude introduction. Envy understood what sex was by function and fancy alone; experience had never wormed its way into the equation. While they say one can't knock it before one tries it, the Sin was more than happily sated with a good round of knocking, since his combined munitions of alcohol and mind-altering drugs had finally succeeded in relaxing and over-sensitizing the _unbelievably_chaste alchemist into a state that was pliable enough to entice upstairs, shed clothing, and beat the mites out of what had probably been some form of mattress in previous life.

It was a little queer (no pun intended), that the length of the whore's skirt seemed to have nothing at all to do with the success of the entrapment, however Envy figured he wasn't one to comment on the alchemist's sexual preference (bearing in mind that, under the fuzz of all those stimulants, preference in _general_actually existed in the first place), and if the gay bastard was happy banging blokes as he was broads, then good for him. It wasn't as though he'd be able to claim much arse with Dante chasing his tail for the remainder of his career.

Envy cocked an eyebrow as Edward's frantic jackhammer pace accelerated into a shamefully erratic frenzy, and grinned as he quickly morphed his shape seconds after the hot release painted his cool insides. After all, he wasn't going to let Edward have the lord's share of fun; this was where the joke _really_started.

_(Wait for it...)_

The Alchemist gave an exclamatory grunt as the final throes of his admittedly impressive orgasm left him spent, and he crashed backwards onto the pillows of the bed – viciously squashing the heel of his hand into his temple.

"Oh God," he moaned, rubbing the other across his closed eyes. He cracked them open experimentally and winced as the light threw shards of pain into his eyeballs and his vision fuzzed and spun.

_(Wait for it...)_

What... had just happened? Where was he? Why did he feel so awful? Why had gravity suddenly gone insane and insisted upon pulling his head in six different directions? In fact...did he even _have_a head anymore...or had is somehow been transmuted into a lump of cotton wool?

Why was his mother sitting on him?

Naked.

Mother.

Sitting on him naked. Mother.

_Muh..._

"What's wrong, Edward?" She smiled sweetly, cupping a perfect breast with one hand while the other toyed in areas that didn't exist in polite conversation, much less the imagination of a studious young man whose experience with women was painfully nubile (and mainly limited to "ones who threw things at him and ones who didn't..."). "Didn't you like it?"

Ed screamed.

And with another blast of blue-white light, Envy's stringy, pale body materialized; perched on his enemy's bare legs and cackling like an escaped lunatic.

"Oh… Oh God… Oh _Goddamn_, that was priceless! You stupid bastard! You stupid, shrimpy bastard!" He slapped a black-clad thigh and clutched his ribs as Ed slowly recovered from the shock beneath him. "The look on your face! If you had your pants on – I'll bet you'd have shit them!"

Edward reacted to the observation by lunging forward, punching the homunculus first in the stomach, then across the cheekbone – knocking him off the bed. Rage had temporarily cleared his mind of the stimulants, allowing his automated response to the mockery of his stature and wounding of his pride by way of a sound pummeling to take immediate effect, and he used this to his best advantage by attacking the Sin with all the strength he could muster. For a wee short bugger, Edward Elric could muster quite a surprising amount.

"You _asshole!_" He seethed, leaping off the covers himself to land his foot, once again, in the Homunculus' guts. "You complete _asshole..._ You have no shame, do you?"

Envy simply continued gasping through chortles; unable to speak if he wanted to.

"What the hell did you come here for? Just to fuck with me? Is that your idea of a joke?"

"Of course!" The Sin finally sat up, wiping tears from his eyes as Edward stood over him, glaring. "It's obvious! _You're_a joke, and I fucked you. Anyone would find that funny!"

There was a clap, and a flash of alchemic light, and suddenly the Sin found himself staring at the point of a halberd with a very pissed off State Alchemist at the other end.

"I know another joke that's funny" Edward growled. "What goes 'Ha-ha-ha 'bonk!'?"

"What?" Envy leant back a little, rubbing the side of the blade with his toe.

"A homunculus _laughing__its_ _head_ _off!_"

Edward made to stab, but Envy kicked the weapon to one side, and flipped away from the blond – landing near the window. He snatched Edward's trousers off the chair where they'd been tossed carelessly, and slowly withdrew the watch from the right side pocket.

"You know, you've got quite a wicked sense of humor. I'd love to stay for the rest of the comedy show but, well, Gluttony loves jokes and I'd better tell him that one before I forget it."

With a grin that could cut set cement, Envy blew a kiss and jumped backwards out the window into the alleyway beyond; disappearing almost instantaneously as he morphed into a nondescript passer-by. The only thing that followed him was Edwards' ear-splitting howl of rage.

_Generally, the Gate of Worlds was regarded as a gargantuan porthole to doom by the unfortunate Alchemists who happened upon its existence, however to give the Gate such a title was an incorrect observation; if not an unjust one. It was, in fact, quite rude; sometimes the Gate could be rather nice._

_Upon__stringent,__hypothetical__examination__(for__one__could__not_ _examine__the__Gate__in__any__tangible__sense;__it__was__as__real__as__it__wasn't)__at__face__value,__the__Gate__of__Worlds__was__simply__a__connector__between__two__parallel__dimensions:__one,__the__Alpha__world;__where__alchemy__was__strong__and__the__power__of__it__hummed__through__the__air__like__electricity,__and__two,__the__Beta__world;__where__humans__overlooked__'nonsensical'__practices__and__progressed__through__the__advancement__of__technology__ – __content__in__searching__for__the__Truth__by__wholly__scientific__means.__Where__alchemy__became__labeled__an__ancient,__yet__unsuccessful__endeavor__to__simply__turn__lead__to__gold__and__was__put__quietly__back__on__the__shelf__to__gather__dust._

_Indeed__there__were__accomplishments__of__human__engineering__present__in__the__first__world:__cars,__guns,__medical__and__military__equipment__and__suchlike__were__indefinitely__accounted__for,__however,__technology__in__the__Alpha__world__did__not__enjoy__the__level__praise__and__glory__it__did__in__its__twin.__Mechanical__advancement,__steam__and__coal__were__simply__other__forms__of__power__apart__from__alchemy;__they__were__not__as__new__and__frightening,__and__they__were__certainly__not__as__celebrated.__However,__they_were _put__into__practical__use__just__as__readily,__and__thus__increased__the__steady__consumption__of__the__metaphysical__energy__present__in__the__atmosphere,__weakening__the__fabric__that__held__the__world__together;__pulling__things__apart__at__the__strings,__as__it__were._

_In__order__to__balance__this__drain,__something__of__a__see-saw__effect__was__established:__since__the__sole__need__of__power__in__the__Alpha__world__was__far__greater__thanks__to__the__many__processes__involved__in__refining__the__complicated__nest__of__alchemical__reactions__into__something__your__normal,__everyday__physics__could__understand__as__a__flash__of__blue-white__light__and__a__sort__of__"sshbhuush_" _noise,__the__energy__necessary__to__provide__for__the__motion__ – __right__through__to__its__complete__state__and__final__product__-__was__"borrowed"__from__the__second__world,__sort__of__in__the__way__your__flatmate__borrows__a__roll__of__toilet__paper;__you're__certainly__not__going__to__get__the__same__thing__back__in__terms__of__mass__and__consistency,__and__general__hygiene__etiquette__strongly__recommends__against__accepting__any__form__of__reimbursements__from__the__original__product._

_Naturally, this rather implied that the Beta was simply an energy store to fuel the alchemic transitions, and to be brutally honest, it really did happen to read a bit like that. When something was transmuted in the Alpha, something in the second would break or cease to work. When a human was transmuted, someone in the parallel world would die – their life energy becoming the creation for the body on the other side._

_Smooth as clockwork, one might think, but it didn't always go so cleanly. In between the worlds, in the cool shadows surrounding the gate itself, lay a domain of monsters - a black, seething primordial swamp of memories, forms, and parts that were the residue of the exchanges; bits and bobs that had been bartered, but were left unused and unable to return to the one world, or pass through to another. These were informally known as the beasts of the Gate (informally, because it was rare that anyone who had managed to catch a peek at the foul little bastards – save for the tumult of reaching hands to snatch whatever was on offer. Those who might've managed to witness a wall of at least a thousand eyes, studded with teeth and laughing at them, probably wouldn't have been able to write much of a formal report on their findings – were they able return in a state to write anything at all), and were a cretinous bunch of scheming, bitter creatures who fooled the alchemists into believing in the rule of 'Equivalent trade', taking the extra offerings as energy for themselves, and for the construction of the race of homunculi with all the leftover bits._

_No matter how hard humans tried, souls could not be reclaimed once they had been lost; the soulless creations to whom the Gate Creatures gave life and fed back into the Alpha world for a bit of a laugh, were doomed to either die or, with the aid of the Philosopher's stone, roam as undead, immortal abominations. Unable to live like humans but still recounting the memories of the flesh as though they were their own. And ultimately a little bit pissed about the whole show._

_However, because of the extreme accumulation of energy on the Alpha side, occasionally something of a meltdown would occur. It was nothing to worry about really, just an intermediate malfunction; something par to a dropped stitch or a double yolker in the weave of the universe and was generally swept under the rug. If one can bring to mind the way in which an accountant might take an excess of funds and make them "disappear" into an assimilation of numbers, well, that was really what the Gate did with an occasional sub-atomic affluence; it would take energy as one thing, turn it around a few times and give it a knead, then send it back out as something else. The processing of power was really just a bit like baking a cake: one would take a number of very different ingredients, mash them together and come out with something quite whole. Whether it would taste good or not was entirely dependant on what foodstuffs you used, or in the case of quantum physics, how the Gate was feeling on that particular day._

_Sometimes the end result was simply a new formation in the land given birth by the ocean. Sometimes it was a phenomenal storm or a baffling miracle of nature. Sometimes it was an idea, an epiphany - eureka! And sometimes, only sometimes, it was the creation of a new soul in a place where, in ordinary circumstances, a soul should never develop._

"Well done, Envy." Dante smiled, dangling the watch by its chain from her thin forefinger. She leant back in her chair, shuffling her birdlike shoulders against the worn plush of the cushion."He'll find it a little difficult to follow us through the military camps beyond Ishbal without this..."

"Oh, so that's what it was for," Envy scratched absently at his haphazard, greenish-black mop. "I thought we were just letting the bastard know where he stands."

"We don't want him coming after us before we've prepared everything," the woman continued, unaffected by her company's contribution. "Slowing him down is the best way we can divert him without losing his interest. Lust and Sloth are doing excellent jobs in their own roles, now we only need to- are you alright?"

Dante stared as the Homunculus swayed a little on his feet; arms slowly snaking around his middle. A glazed look had come over his eyes.

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine. Must've taken... worse hits than I figured."

"You shouldn't play with him so much if you're going to moan afterwards." Dante scolded, loftily, but she couldn't keep curiosity from invading her voice as she noticed a slight sweat coating Envy's pale skin. She narrowed her eyes when the homunculus nodded grudgingly, bowing his head low and turning away.

"I know," he muttered, plodding out the door. "But it's worth it. He never gets to me the way I get to him."

"Is that so?" Dante whispered her gaze drifting like a smooth current as she watched her son leave the room.

Izumi winced, feeling a strong need to duck, as a rainbow of crass insults spilled from the mouth of her eldest student. They were alone in her motel bedroom; Ed needed to speak to her the moment he stepped inside the door, still shaking from his disgustingly intimate and entirely _too_ personal encounter with the homunculus. Since Al and her husband were busy packing for their journey out of Central – where the couple had paid the brothers a short surprise visit - she was able to take the time to sit and listen; horrified at first (mostly at Envy's gall), then repulsed (once again, Envy), then relieved. Edward, formidable as he was, was liable to act upon his emotions too readily, and had the homunculus been sent to kill him, he may not have returned so unscathed. Not with the kind of mortifying distraction Envy had pulled.

"You should rest," Izumi sighed, fingering a tight braid as Ed play-acted the demise of his enemy – pretending his teacher's pillow was Envy's head, and stomping on it repeatedly. "Whatever he fed you might not have left your system and it would be better to sleep it off."

"And do you _know_ how he did that? How he made me drink that stuff?" Ed stopped kicking the pillow, and shook a tensed index finger at it. "Pretended he was a Girl Scout selling _lemonade!__LEMONADE!_ Lemonade my _ass!_ I'd hate to think what his cookies were made out of!"

Izumi brushed her student's shoulder gingerly as he panted – his tantrum of pure adrenalin evaporating as he finally began to settle down.

"I thought nothing of it," he continued, huffing - his blond bangs damp and smeared across his face with sweat. "I just... bought the stuff off the girl. Y'know, she was just a _girl_– I figured it was fine. Winry used to do lemonade stands in Rizenbul all the time. Her stuff was bad enough, but this one – the one he gave me - was hot. I drank it anyway, and the next thing I know, I'm in this sleazy hotel room, where there's this naked woman taking my pants off, telling me she'll do anything I ask. I just... I couldn't..." Edward's anguished gesticulations, wide and slow by now – not as frantic as before – were a strong indicator of his humiliation and shame. "I couldn't say no. I don't even _like_that sort of thing, but I couldn't say no." He squeezed his eyes shut, and plonked down onto the bed, right hand massaging his brow. Izumi stopped patting his shoulder, and, after a moment, gave it a firm squeeze; her gaze directed somewhere out the window.

"It wasn't your fault," she said, simply. "But you know that. You shouldn't feel ashamed, you just have to realize they play much dirtier than you expected. You aren't hurt, that's the main thing." The woman eased up off the bed, and walked out the room; her sandals flopping listlessly on the floor behind her. "And get some rest," she added, before switching off the light.

Edward lay back and rolled over onto his side, kicking his boots onto the floor.

_Play__dirty,__huh?_He thought, viciously. _Fine,__let__them,__the__fucking__cowards!__But__wouldn't__it__be__a__laugh__if__that__Envy__git_wasn't _as__tough__as__he__thought__he__was.__What__if__there__was__a__way__I__could__get__him__back.__Make_him_the__butt__of__the__joke__…_

_The Gate pulsed._

"What are you doing?" Lust lifted an incredulous brow as Envy chewed on the end of a bread roll, dangling his ankles off the rooftop they were sitting on. Dante's plan had been a success: instead of interrupting the military's warfare upon the Ishbalites in the northern lands, the Elric brothers were stuck on investigating a string of murders that held many accountable links and references to alchemy and the practice of the science. This was the work of Dante's favourite Swiss Army Sin, Sloth, who, among her many talents as secretary of state, heartless hitwoman and dynamic water cooler, seemed to have quite a knack for concocting perfectly baffling crime scenes that would leave investigators and police running in pointless circles. Envy, despite his acting ability, tended to leave evidence – mostly out of carelessness - and Wrath and Gluttony were too inexperienced to be involved in such precision planning. Currently, Lust and her "brother" were monitoring the brothers as they trudged heavily through the streets of Central, tracing back over the unruly tails of evidence Sloth had inadvertently provided for them. Envy shrugged complacently at the comment, chewing with open-mouthed nonchalance.

"I stole it off that stall over there. It's not so bad."

"Since when did you start eating things?" Lust countered.

"Since I got hungry." The green-haired homunculus shoved the last bite in his mouth, and crouched over the edge of the guttering as he surveyed the path of the brothers. Lust snorted ungraciously, watching him out of the corner of her eye; Envy'd been acting quiet strange the past few weeks or so, but this was certainly the oddest thing she'd seen him do. The sleeping she could almost understand: homunculi didn't need to sleep, but Envy had seemed to take a liking to napping a few hours every night, which was, perhaps, something to do with his age. Envy was many years her elder, and his body might have been created differently; needing rest every now and again to rejuvenate. She thought she'd heard Dante say something about him being "less refined", whatever that was supposed to mean, but that couldn't mean he was… what? Eroding? Expiring? Over the hill? Was that going to happen to all of them? She wasn't sure, but Lust, being Lust, wasn't one to pry; she just fretted, unexplainably, over some very strange things. However, the eating stumped her; he'd _never_done that – not even for pleasure!

"Damn," Lust cursed under her breath; readying herself at the roof's edge as the boys turned into a deserted street towards the Old Museum. "Sloth's not finished in there. They arrived faster than we expected. She was counting on them going into the store."

"You shoulda done something about it then," Envy remarked shakily. Lust shot him a scathing look, and was rewarded by the fact that his countenance had taken on a notably nauseous tinge.

"And if we'd left it to you, Elric One and Elric Two would have found out about the choreographed the murders long ago, and be in Ishbal right now. Hurry up!" Lust leapt of the roof, landing directly in the Elric's path – claws drawn. She didn't really have the time to emerge all sinuous and slinky-deadly from the shadows, she had to cover Sloth's arse.

Envy paused a moment, rubbing his wrist over his stomach,

_Don't feel so good_

then, he too jumped down from the guttering, and faced Ed; his smirk almost glowing with brattish glee.

"Hello, baby," he purred. "Miss me?"

Edward had quickly transmuted his Automail into a short blade at Lust's initial confrontation; but as soon as he'd caught sight of Envy, he lunged after the Sin with a feral snarl.

"You bastard, I'll make you pay this time!"

"Oh is that so?" Envy taunted. "I thought the _customers_ usually paid the whores – not the other way around."

"Nii-san?" Al added in a shocked voice as he held off Lust, her claws scraping horribly against the plate of his metal gauntlets. Edward ignored him.

"We'll call it a freebie, thanks to your _lemonade!"_He shoved forward, only just missing Envy's thinly-clad neck. The Homunculus laughed as he flipped out the way, turning somersaults and flik-flaks in between booting the ornery alchemist in the face. However, after he'd been jumping around for awhile, dodging Edward's blade as well as several waves of curling earth that threatened to crush him, he began to feel tired; his energy spent as though he'd coughed up a couple of stones. The grin dissolved from his face as he found it increasingly harder to keep the distance between the sharp metal point of Ed's Automail and his skin. One slip, one moment of dizziness cost him dearly and with an unexpected swipe, Ed had knocked him to the ground and was aiming his blade at Envy's navel.

"I should gut you for what you did," he rumbled, sheer rage twisting his handsome features into something quite terrible. "Bet that'll take awhile to heal!"

"Go ahead!" Envy countered, not feeling quite as confident as he knew he ought to.

"Fine!"

"_Fine,__dickhead!"_

"Oh, Edward, no!" cried Sloth, who was poised dramatically on the awning above the hardware store, obviously having finished with disemboweling the shopkeep. Ed's head snapped up to focus on the mirror of his mother's face, and he stared for a moment before quickly reminding himself that it was Sloth, not Trisha Elric. He narrowed his eyes as she descended in a spill of clear water – as though a small puddle of dew had been tipped out of the canvas - and watched as she bent down, not taking her eyes off her 'son' whilst sliding one hand between his Automail and Envy's middle.

"No? Why?" He rumbled, not moving his blade an inch. "Why shouldn't I, huh?"

Sloth just blinked, still perfectly in character, though it wasn't at all necessary. The shock would work just fine.

"Why? But Edward… What about the baby?"


	2. Oft Go Awry

_**Warnings**: **Major****Spoilers,****Violence,****Bad****Language,****MPREG**._

_Note: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist. If I did, I would be kissing my own feet._

_Well, since I'm not dead (nobody threw bricks! Whoopee!)...here's chapter two..._

_**Dark****Humor**._

_Part the Two: Oft go awry..._

_"What about the baby?"_

A silence filled the air – a pregnant one, if that's not redundant.

Edward gaped at Sloth's emotionless cast as though she'd just flippantly mentioned he had grown another head. Alphonse and Lust had ceased their fight simply to listen – both frozen like bizarre statues.

"The...what?" He barely managed to fumble out the words.

"The baby." The Homuculus gently pushed the automail weapon to one side and traced a lazy circle on the shapeshifters bared skin. "_Your_ baby. You won't harm Envy this way... But we do not know what might happen to the fragile life inside him."

_"Buh...buh..."_

Oblivious to Edward's shocked stuttering, Envy himself blinked a few times in surprise. Yet, as previously stated, he was a bastard and because of his deceptive nature, the trick dawned on him almost at once. He cracked another devilish grin and chuckled to himselfas the Alchemist remained staring at his mother's replica, choking on syllables.

_(Nice one, Mum... Nice one...)_

"Cat's out of the bag now" He shrugged. "What are you going to do, O'chibi-san? Kill your own offspring just to lay a few scratches on me? And I thought you were such the family man!"

"It's not possible.." Ed stated lamely, looking back down at the smirking face of the Sin. "There's no way..."

"I _was_a woman at the time, if you remember correctly." Envy gave Ed a sweet look, batting his eyelashes, before roughly shoving the blond off his torso. He stood up, brushed the dirt from his clothes and flicked his long hair over his shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse us, I think we're done here. As it seems, I don't think I should be fighting in my..._delicate__condition."_

He darted away, laughing - scaling the roof in a single bound with Lust and Sloth following quickly behind him. Al watched them for a second, then gave himself a mental shake and clanked over to his brother – who still lay prostate where he had been thrown.

"Nii-san?" Alphonse attempted, gently helping the other boy to sit up. "What were they talking about? What's this thing about a baby?"

Edward, still in a trance, muttered a few more random consonants before reality hit him like a lead weight between the eyes.

_It wasn't possible... It wasn't possible..._

_Of_course_it__wasn't__possible!_

He repeated this out loud and started laughing while Al sat back in complete bewilderment.

"That bastard...He did it again! He got me again!" The boy giggled manaically, his shoulders shaking.

"What did he do, Nii-san?" Al moved back a little, palms held up in confusion as his brother whooped like a hyena – gripping his sides as he gleefully cursed the Homunculus' name in another torrent of swearing that used a vocabulary colourful enough to make a pirate blush.

After a few moments, Ed stopped and, finally noticing Al's puzzlement, explained the happenings on that day a few weeks previous – slightly more comfortable with the situation now than he had been at first. Alphonses' reaction was mostly concern for his brother, but the Alchemist waved it off briskly.

"Oh it's fine, Al, I didn't get hurt. I'm just annoyed that I believed him, that's all."

"But Nii-san, what if those weird drugs are still making you think strange things? What if they brainwashed you?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Edward shot the enchanted armour his usual grin. "If they had, it didn't work 'cause I don't believe them, do I? Naw, I think I just got caught again."

"Well, as long as you're alright..."

"Yes, _yes!_I just really wish I _had_gutted him now..."

"Sloth, that was _perfect"_

The team had returned to Dante's home beneath Central and were sitting in her drawing room, waiting for her to arrive to give the mission report. Lust and her sister were sitting tidily on an exquisite gilded couch at the end of an elaborately laid coffee table whilst Envy perched on a small chair to their right. Gluttony had joined them and was, as usual, crouched as Lust's feet, his large hands grasping the hem of her dress.

Sloth looked over at her teammate as he laughed again, his thin ribs convulsing with mirth.

"What was?" She asked evenly.

"That trick, of course!" Envy chuckled nastily – making Gluttony break into a grin as well. "Even if they _did_find you setting up that last scene in the Museum, I think that's totally thrown them for awhile!"

Sloth blinked.

"What trick?"

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Envy rolled his eyes. "The baby thing – you know 'fragile life inside him'" He sniggered again. "Did Dante tell you about my little encounter with Edward a few weeks ago?"

"Yes," The Trisha Elric lookalike nodded. "But I was not making a joke..."

"Sure you were!"

"No," Her face remained constant as she shook her head gently. "It is the truth."

"You can stop now." The shape-shifter growled, narrowing his eyes. "This is just getting weird. You may be able to pull one on the Fullmetal Shorty, but you're not going to pull one on _me.._"

"It's _already_ been pulled on you, Envy," Dante announced as she swept into the room – Wrath following behind juggling a large pile of alchemy books in his arms. "Sloth wasn't making anything up."

Envy's smile vanished as he watched the woman settle on a couch opposite him – motioning for Wrath to put the books down on the floor beside her feet.

"You... Don't...Wha?..That's not..." He tried a few words on before finally blurting out a sentence. "You're kidding me, there's absolutely _no__way_that could happen."

"There is." Dante picked up a book from the floor and absently thumbed a few pages. "And it's perfectly plausible."

"It is _not!"_Envy hissed. "Last time I checked, I was a man!"

"And last time _I_checked, you were a _Homunculus."_Dantes eyes skimmed over a series of complicated symbols and calculations. "One who can morph it's shape at that. You aren't confined by the human rules of gender and as a result, when you made love to Edward, you conceived his child. Even if you _did_return to your usual form afterward, you can't alter the fact that you now hold part of him inside you."

Aware of the eyes of his Homunculus siblings upon him, Envy struggled to keep his composure, though his hands shook and sweat dribbled a thin tear down the side of his face.

"But...It can't...There's nowhere for it to _go_..."

"I am sure your body will find a way to accomodate it. Perhaps you'd better change back into a female shape."

"I don't _want_to accomodate it!" Envy's voice rose, despite his best efforts to conceal his alarm. "I want it gone, out! I want nothing to do with that Elric-turd!"

"Envy!" Dante looked up sharply. "A child that is formed between a Homunculus and a Human is rare. And since the buck _happened_to be the son of Hohenhiem, I do believe we can be expecting something extrodinary from it. Indeed, this is certainly not an experiment I'm willing to ignore. What comes out the gate is generally dead – simply an animation – yet you now hold _life."_

"I can change that," Muttered Envy, grimly.

"I think you'll find it a little more difficult than you imagine. You'll just have to grin and bear it - if you'll pardon the expression..." A corner of Dante's mouth hitched into a smirk. "You may excuse yourself if you wish."

The shapeshifter went to retort but thought the better of it – instead giving the entire crowd a disgusted look before storming out the room. He didn't even bother with theatrics – he simply wanted to get away from that _damn_woman's face.

Trudging angrily down the corridor, he turned a few passages before finding solstace in a small, cold room – a miniature private library filled with alchemy books, charts and scrolls. Envy whistled as he stared at the endless piles of reading material – Dante must have hundreds of these rooms dotted about her manor.

Small wonder she was such a know-it-all.

But, regardless of her overbearing temprement, Envy knew better than to doubt her. He took a deep breath and slowly rolled his eyes downward to the place where the child of Edward Elric was supspended in the slumber of creation. It couldn't really be true, could it? He'd changed into countless other forms many times – all sorts of different bodies. Tall ones, short ones, some that were heavy, some slim. Black, White, Yellow – every colour. Women, Men, children...it didn't matter. He was just acting – wearing a different shape as one would wear a costume. The body was his choice and moved how _he_wanted it to. _He_ was the one in control.

Envy had never had his own shape altered before – not the one he'd specially chosen to portray himself. The notion of it made him feel slightly queasy.

Pressing his hands on his midriff, the Sin frowned as he felt only the hardness of muscle and the curve of his ribs beneath a thin covering of taut smooth skin. There was no room for anything, not in this perfectly crafted, svelte form. Imagine trying to fit a womb between all that sinew and tissue - certainly not the optimum place for a baby to grow!

There was no way, _no__way!_Those bastards were having him on – how _dare_they!

Frowning menacingly, a bitter, pissed off Envy he gave his stomach an experimental punch – hard – and cringed as he only succeeded in winding himself.

"This is just stupid" He grumbled and reluctantly began to change his guise.

The fuzz of white light and static energy was interrupted by a sudden, excruciating pain that crunched in the core of Envy's being and fizzed out though the rest of his form. Envy stopped shifting for a moment and stood bewildered and dazed – panting as the horrible pain slowed turned into an ache, then a twinge, then was gone. Frustration fuelled him to try again, but this time the agony was so great it caused him to keel over, cuddling in a foetal position as the throbbing bit at his insides and burnt a white hot fire in his stomach.

"...'the hell...?" he managed to mutter before, with the third effort, he blacked out completely.

_End of Part Two... Whoops, this is quite short...sorry... The next one's better_


	3. Brothers and Sisters

**W_arnings__:__Major____Spoilers,____Violence,____Bad____Language,____MPREG__._**

_Note: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist. I don't own Envy. I cry about this every night._

_Now I'm going to be really, really nice and give you guys two chapters at once. Why? Well, after waching FMA #51, I'm feeling generous. That and I'd like you all to get a better idea of where the story is going. So I hope you enjoy it - unfortunately you'll have to wait for Monday for chapter 5 - I've got to finish my schoolwork after doing all this writing!_

_Anyway, let's all feel sorry for Envy now - it's only just begun for him_

_-rubs his belly and ducks the swinging fists-_

_aww!_

_(7/10: Edits for silly spelling mistakes and suchlike XD)_

**Dark Humor**

_Part Fweeee: Brothers and Sisters._

Edward was bored.

Not just the 'I've got nothing to do' bored or 'There's nothing on the telly' bored or school holidays bored. He was downright, completely out-of-his-mind bored. No other words could quite explain it:

Listless – nah.

Jaded – Wasn't that a term used for rock stars?

Apathetic – He would be, if he could spell it.

Truthfully, Edward was down in the dumps. He'd been left off the military list for patrol in Central, and though there was need for soldiers in the Southern lands near the new Ishbalite settlement, Roy had ordered the Elric brothers to remain close to base. He _had_been acting as an Alchemic assistant in the serial murder investigations – but most of the evidence had moved from the military to the labs and Edward was left simply waiting for results or for another crime to surface.

He'd amused himself for awhile, sitting around with the CSI team as they doggedly turfed through sloughs of papers and information – but in the end, despite his Alchemic knowledge, he was simply too exciteable and proved to be more of a hinderance.

After only four weeks on the case he was politely sent home.

Naturally, the young Alchemist wasn't one to quit so easily and had been pondering over the crimes on his own time by himself – swapping his Alchemy books for police files and documents. He couldn't quite shake the feeling he was missing something important... Something do to with the Homunculi. Sure, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Lust or Envy or any of the others for that matter in the past month, but when he thought about it, hadn't the three stooges been hanging around the Old Museum the day it had been broken into and ... and...

Edward blinked.

Murders... Homunculi... The War in Ishbal... His having to stay behind...That _stupid_diversion of Envy's...

They _had_to be linked.

Swearing, Edward fumed out the door – so blind in his rage he ended up throwing his crimson travelling jacket on inside out. Roy would be hearing about this – and if he could manage it, his superiour wouldn't be hearing much _else_for the next few hours...

"Nii-san!" Al yelled, sprinting after him, waving a small envelope in the air. "Wait! You need to read... NII-SAN!"

Lust sighed as she drew a damp handful of Envy's sweat-sodden hair out of his face while he hunched over the basin for what seemed the millionth time and emptied his stomach of whatever little nourishment he'd managed to keep down.

The other Homunculi watched the scene with growing trepidation. They'd all silently accepted the task of monitoring their brother as his body and disposition began to change, yet they couldn't quite comprehend what was happening to him. Lust and Sloth knew, as most women do, the general stages of pregnancy, yet the way Envy's was affecting his Homunculus form were both questionable and alarming.

"How many?" Sloth asked quietly as, panting, Envy slowly sat up.

"Four," He answered, hazarding a glance into the contents of the bucket where several, ruby red Philosopher's stone fragments glinted wetly inamongst the other jetsam.

"That's thirty-five this week," Lust shook her head, letting go of the shapeshifter's hair. "There can't be many more."

"I know," Envy exhaled weakly and, flinching, pressed his palm to his middle as the nausea rose again. "What I _don't_want to know is what happens once they're all gone.."

"Perhaps you're meant to react like this, maybe you can survive without them."

"Even _with_ them I can't morph," Envy grimaced as he watched the stones slowly melt into small red puddles – blotching crimson the insipid colour of the bile. "I don't have the strength I used to... I can't heal like a Homunculus anymore – I don't even think I_am_a Homunculus anymore!"

"It's turning you into a human," Breathed Sloth.

"It's turning me into _something,"_Grumbled Envy.

"Is it turning you into a girl?" Wrath giggled – earning a scowl from his eldest brother that clearly stated if he didn't currently feel like heaving his guts up _again_he'd have torn the kids ears off.

"No, not human," Lust shook her head slowly. "Like all of us, he'd need a complete soul for that."

"What if the baby _is_completing his soul?" Argued Sloth

"Then, when he gives birth..."

_"There'll BE no birth..."_

Both women stopped and looked at Envy, who had his head bowed, digging his fingers into the flesh of his belly. Feeling their gaze upon him he stopped and sighed. There was a short, tense moment of embarrassed muteness before he spoke again, quietly.

"Lust? Can you tie my hair up off my back?"

"Yes."

The Sin reached around and gathered her brother's messy brackish mane into one hand then began braiding it - noting with unease the jagged rise and fall of his boney shoulders as he breathed.

"Thanks," He murmured. "It's so hot..."

"I can't believe I did that."

"I told you to stop, Nii-san."

"Why didn't you tell me louder?"

"I _did_yell, Nii-san."

"You should have come after me."

"I _did_run three blocks, Nii-san, but you'd already entered the State Alchemist headquarters by then and I'm not allowed in without you or a pass and at that moment I had neither."

"Al," Ed stopped stabbing his fork into his bowl of noodles to glare up at his brother. "When I'm about to make the _gargantuan_mistake of marching unannounced into the Colonels office to commence blasting his head off about my estrangement from the war in Ishbal _and_the Central triple homocides - only to find that the soldiers had been sent South simply for recconaissance, the murder case has _already_been solved by CSI and the convicted had _already_begun his sentence and that I _had__been__informed__of__this__in__the__mail_, I'm sure I could make any excuse for your entering the grounds on behalf of _saving__you__big__brother__from__making__himself__look__like__a__complete__idiot!"_

"I told you to check the letterbox this morning," Al replied casually.

There was a loud squeak as metal hit china and Alphonse looked up to see that Edward had slammed his fork down so hard, he'd bent the handle.

"That's great," the Elder muttered through clenched teeth. "Let's go back in time, shall we, and leave my past-self a note so he'll remember to check the _stupid_ mailbox so he won't then run down to the _stupid_ Military base and yell at the _stupid_Colonel who'll then tell him there's a _stupid_ letter that he hasn't _stupidly_ read!"

"I'm sorry, Nii-san."

"Oh Al," Ed sighed. "It's not your fault. I guess I'm just going out of my head hanging around here."

"Why don't we go and visit Winry?" Al suggested. "We haven't seen her for awhile... Oh! And Granny Pinako too!"

"That doesn't sound like such a bad idea...I-"

Edward jumped as his sentence was cut off by a knock at the door. Both brothers exchanged surprised glances.

"Who'd be coming around at this hour?" Al said quietly, checking the clock on the wall. It was a quarter to ten in the evening.

"I'll get it." Ed motioned for his brother to sit down. "It's probably someone from Base."

But when he opened the door, Edward was suprised to find, not a military man dressed in the usual blue regalia and salute, but the slender, inviting silhouette of Lust who stood politely in the doorway – arms linked behind her back.

"Hello, Edward." She greeted him in her usual velvety tone. "May I have a word?"

"How the hell did you get here?" Ed replied, flabberghasted.

"The stairs, naturally,"

"Stairs?"

"Well I didn't shinny up the drainpipe if that's what you're thinking!" Lust rolled her eyes and dropped the sweet demeanor – crossing her arms over her generous chest.

"I think what Nii-san is trying to ask is why are you here?" Al called from the dinner table. Edward frowned, but nodded.

"Yeah," He confirmed. Why _are_you here – of all people."

"I have a question."

"What?"

"May I come in first?" Lust looked about nervously. "It's a delicate, but pressing matter."

Noting her worried expression, Edward gave a huff then opened the door wider and let the Homunculus in.

"Alright," He walked backward a few steps, leant on the edge of the table and glared at her. "What?"

"When Sloth told you about Envy's pregnancy, what did you think?"

Ed almost choked before bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Nothing of course! It was a trick – just a stupid prank to shock me so you guys could get away before I wiped the street with you. Not to mention..." He narrowed his eyes. "...a diversion to throw me off your scent – I know you've had something to do with all those weird killings – even _if_the Police have called the case closed."

"Maybe we did, maybe we didn't." Lust waved the statement of briskly. "But Edward, Sloth wasn't lying...it's true."

"Very funny. The joke is getting old, Lust."

"Envy _is_carrying your child..."

"I'm not listening.."

"He's sick, Edward.."

"So? Drag him off to a quack. Maybe they'll take him apart and fix him so he's not such an arsehole anymore..."

"Please," Lust hadn't realized it, but she had uncrossed her arms and was clasping her hands in front her, imploring. "He's too weak and though we're doing all we can to help him, he's not getting better. At this rate he might loose the baby. We can't let that happen..."

"Why not?" Edward frowned. The tone in Lust's voice was worring him -there was a sinking note of reality to 'd never seen a Homunculus act so..._concerned_before.

"Because it's the most human thing anyone of us has been able to do. Generally we don't procreate – it doesn't mean anything to us. We can't reproduce. We don't eat or sleep. We only act like humans do, but we can't _feel_like them – the closest we can get is simply from the memories of our flesh."

"You can get hurt, can't you?" Edward lifted his head slightly. "You guys certainly flinch when you get cut...And didn't Envy himself say he hates pain?"

"Yes, but it's over so quickly we don't get to savour the sensation."

"You're not missing much."

"Lust," Al piped up from across the table. "If what you're saying is true, what do you mean Envy's sick? His body should have healed him, shouldn't it? You guys are sort of 'super-healers' right?"

The Sin shook her head.

"A homunculus body is not susceptible to illness or disease – we don't even _get_sick to have our bodies heal us from it. But Envy has been...changing. He's not been able to morph his form for weeks."

"How did that happen?"

"We're not sure, but we guess it may be because he's been bringing up the incomplete philosopher's stones – the..uh..basis of our bodies." Lust paused a moment – pressing her lips into a tight line, fretfully - unsure of whether she should have released such important information. She'd been so worried for her brother, she hadn't even thought of a story to tell the Elrics, she'd simply barged on in, counting on their co-operation.

_Whoops_

Yet the damage had already been done. The Sin looked down and gave a light shrug – well, even _if_Fullmetal knew part of the the composition of their bodies, it didn't mean he knew _how_to draw the stones from their flesh. Besides getting them pregnant, of course.

"Go on," coaxed Al. Lust looked up, a flustered blush tingeing her cheeks.

"Since then his strength has entirely diminished and he's developed high fevers that his body cannot take care of."

"If he's throwing up the stones, he must be dying." Edward stated, bluntly.

Lust shot him a dirty look.

"I _know_that! But how do you explain the fact that he couldn't consume them when we tried to feed him some. Only homunculus can eat the stones."

"So he's a freak homunculus."

"Edward!"

"What do you want _me_to do about it?" the Alchemist exploded in exasperation. "Not only do I trust you as far as I can throw a truck, I still think you're_lying._Even if you _aren't_I'd know as much about the situation as you do. Get him a doctor or something."

"Our masterwon't allow us to bring anyone into their manor – that includes doctors. And if we take him into a clinic in Central, whom could we trust? What's to stop them alerting the military? Then they'd lock Envy and _your__child_up somewhere and call them some kind of Alchemy experiment."

"I like the whole "_your__child"_bit," muttered Ed.

"But it _is!"_ Lust cried, causing both brothers to jump. "It's possible, we could pay off any doctor to keep his silence, but that's never entirely guarranteed. The only person we can trust who would truely be concerned for the child's welfare is_you_!"

"I still don't get what you want me to do..."

"Help him," Lust deflated, sensing the hopelessness of her request. "Our Master has disowned him. They have no interest in the baby and will comfortably let him suffer the consequences of his actions."

"No interest?" Edward frowned. "I find that hard to believe."

"Well," the Sin twiddled her gloved fingers. "Not _only_does Master think the prank Envy pulled on you was witless and stupid-"

Ed grunted.

"- But he's also been refusing their help. He won't eat the food they provide, nor will he stay near their room. He's angry at them for making him go through with the complications of his mistake. But he's damaging himself in the process"

"What makes you think he'll listen to me?" The Alchemist straightened, moving off the table. "He _hates_me.."

"Admittedly, I haven't known Envy long – not in Homunculus terms," Lust stopped her figeting and squeezed her hands together again. "But even though he's the eldest of us all, I don't think he's actually aged that much in _human_years... He's more like_you_ than you know – though he'd never admit it."

Edward let his hands fall slowly from his hips – vexed by every word that came from the Sin's mouth. With each explanation, her honesty and concern became successively evident.

"He's worried," Lust continued. "In fact I think it's safe to say he's a little scared. He hasn't any control over himself, it seems his body is reacting as a mortal's would – save for the expulsion of the stones. Once the baby is gone...well, he has no idea what's going to happen. He doesn't want to die – no matter what he says. _None_of us want to die. We're not _afraid_to die, but that's not the same thing..."

"Alright, alright, _alright!"_Edward held up his hands in submission. "I'll check it out-"

"Me too!" chimed Alphonse.

"But if, at _any_time, I sense a trap..."

"Edward Elric," The Homunculus bowed he head humbly. "None of us will harm you. We are begging for your help, not for your destruction. I swear it."

Ed nodded, but still kept a suspicious eye on the Homunculus as he and his brother followed Lust out of the Military Hostel and into the night.

_Hah! I noticed a comment on my last two fics and how I hadn't really continued with them. Well, you see, dear readers, they're actually in stasis at the moment - waiting until I get the motivation to continue with them (or at least until after my classes finish for the year). I'm not Hohenheim - I don't abandon things._


	4. White Horse

**Dark Humour**

_Part Four: White Horse._

Rather than endanger Dante's stronghold and take the Elrics to the Manor beneath the City, Gluttony, Sloth and Wrath had moved their brother through a maze of secret passages and up into a deserted townhouse in the railway villages on the outskirts of Central while Lust sought the aid of the Alchemist brothers.

Finally, as a small, dusty pendulum clock on the lounge-room wall chimed half-past ten, the figures of Ed, Al and their guide emerged in the doorway.

Sloth noticed them first and smiled a little.

"You came..."

Edward frowned at the scene. The Homunculi were grouped together - gathered around a shivering pile of blankets on the floor. Though he could have sworn they were independant creatures, the way they stood beside each other so... _protectively_... made them seem more akin to pack animals ...or even humans. He went to query this, but decided against it – even _if_Lust had promised none of them would harm him, he still didn't want to piss them off with probing questions. All he had to do was check Envy out, then leave...right?

Edward rubbed his hands on his upper arms as a few chilled shivers tickled his shoulders.

"It's freezing in here. I thought you said the guy was sick..."

"We weren't sure if we should light a fire or not." Wrath explained, wringing his small hands in adjitation. "People might see..."

Ed shrugged and walked closer to the untidy heap of bedding. Envy was there alright and he'd certainly looked like he'd seen better days. Though his skin was usually of a lighter pallor, from what Edward could see in the bright moonlight he'd turned a bloodless grey. Sweat laminated his forehead thickly, plastering his hair to his face and dripping down the sides of his temples. Deep shadows encircled his eyes and when he cracked them open, the red-blotched, tear-filled irises regarded Edward cooly from beneath a fringe of wet lashes.

"Oh god," Envy groaned, his voice cracked and barely audible. "Not _you..."_

"You didn't tell him?" The Alchemist threw a sideways glare at Lust, who bit her lip sheepishly.

"We wouldn't have heard the last of it if we had."

"Didn't tell me what?" The Shape shifter croaked, struggling to sit upright. Sloth rested her hands on his shoulders and shook her head lightly.

"Don't tire yourself, you're just going with Edward for awhile."

"I am?" Despite his fatigue, Envy managed to look completely incredulous.

"He is?" Added Ed, mirroring the Sin's expression. "Hey! I don't remember anything about me taking anybody anywhere!"

"Why else would we have asked you to come?" asked Lust.

"I thought you wanted me to slap some sense into him."

"It's not that simple, Edward."

"Yeah," growled Envy, wriggling against Sloths grip. "I'll slap _him_first!"

With the energy that only hate and rage could fuel, the Shape shifter wrenched himself free of his younger sisters' hold and scrambled to his feet, gasping with the effort. He scowled horribly at the Alchemist – tensing his hands into fists at his sides.

Edward glared back at the Sin and went to retort, but something about Envy's appearance stopped him. It wasn't the guy's obvious lack of strength, nor the way his form shook with every heavy, labored breath, but something else, a _physical__difference_that caught Ed's eye as his gaze travelled across the Shape shifter's torso.

The Alchemist inhaled sharply.

Envy was as scrawny as the last time Edward had seen him - if not thinner. But although his ribs stuck out like miniature grates and the skin of his hips pulled in sharply, the tiny, tell-tale swell – like a beesting from a rather oversized drone - a few inches below his navel only ascertained the dreaded truth of his condition.

This time, Edward was the one to break out in a sweat.

"Y-you really are..."

"What?" Envy sneered, still glowering.

"Really..." Unable to say much more, Edward pointed a shaking finger at Envy's midsection. The Sin looked down.

"Oh..._that..._" He twitched, feeling suddenly awkward under Ed's gaze and jerkily knotted his arms over his stomach. "Don't get hopeful, if I'd have found a way to get rid of it by now, I would have. And I _will_"

He added the last part as Sloth went to object – cutting her off, rudely.

"Lust said you couldn't change forms anymore." Alphonse pointed out.

"Did she?" Envy narrowed his watering eyes.

"She said you were very sick and that you needed to get away from your Master because they weren't helping you."

The Shape shifter's countenance darkened, and he glared icily at his sister, muscles tightening in his jaw.

"Lust says alot, doesn't she?"

Said Sin glanced at the wall, tugging guiltilyat her dress.

"She's right, though," Ed stated, finally locating his vocal chords. "It's pretty clear that if you don't get help you won't last long. And if your body is being manipulated by the...the uhh... Well, being _changed_like it is...you...well..."

"If the baby dies, _you_ may follow." Finished Sloth, moving closer to the shape-shifter. "Envy-"

"I would _rather_die!" Envy yelled suddenly making the entire population of the room jump. "I would rather be sealed, even! It would be a holiday compared to following these assholes around all the time – butting into their plans and not being able to kill them! I hate this shithead!" He jabbed a finger in Ed's direction. "I _hate_him! And you guys expect me to squeeze out his disgusting offspring? You're nuts! You're completely insane! I'm not... I'm not going...anywhere...w-"

Envy's voice broke as he swayed dangerously – eyes rolling back - then collapsed, his legs giving out beneath him. Ed ran forward and caught his shoulders before his head hit the floor – holding him still as Sloth cupped a palm on his brow. She shook her head.

"Edward..."

"I know, I know." He looked over Envy's drawn, pain-tinged face and gave a defeated sigh. He was going to regret this, but... "Alright, you win. We'll take him. I've got my wallet, right Al?"

The other boy nodded and walked over to pick up the unconscious Homunculus as Ed wrapped the blanket about him.

"Are we going to Rizelbul, Nii-san?"

"No, Dublith," Ed replied, standing up. "We'll get as far away from Central as possible. Away from the Military."

"But Dublith is near the Southern Headquarters... And Lieutenant Colonel Archer! If he finds out..."

"He won't." Ed shook his head a little. "Last I heard he was snooping around Liore - probably in effort to try and start something. After that, I'm pretty certain he was set on a transfer to Central. Besides, we can't deal with something like _this_alone. I want to talk to... _Her..."_

"Sensei?" Al gulped. Well, one can imagine he did. "We're going to stay withSensei? Why?"

"She's the best person I can think of to help us with this. Plus, she's an Alchemist. If he acts up it'll be three against one."

Al nodded, metal clinking lightly on metal andstarted walking out the door into the street. Ed followed him, turning to address the other Homunculi as he took the last step onto the pavement.

"I'm not going to keep him for long, got that? Just until he guys can come for him later – I'm guessing you'll be able to find us. But if he takes it in his head to hurt anyone, or to try to kill anyone, I'll-"

"I understand," Lust answered, quickly. "We will come for him when he's strong enough to continue alone."

Sloth nodded in agreement, then reached behind her and drew out a small, leather bag which she tossed toward the Alchemist.

"Here, take this. A little funding for our brother."

"Where did you get that from?" Edward asked as he caught it, weighing the contents with his hand.

"I don't think," Lust smiled mischieviously. "A token 'good guy' like you would want to know."

The Alchemist made a face, but accepted the offering, and left – running into the shadows after his sibling. The gathering on the houses' front stoop watched as the Elric brothers dissappeared from sight and when they had, Lust sighed and shook her head.

"I'm sure Dante would have approved." Sloth spoke suddenly. "If she wants the baby she will have to accept the fact that Envy wasn't coping where he was with the rest of us."

"I can't imagine why," Lust dragged a hand through her hair. "The manor is the same as any house.."

"Perhaps it's the company?"

Lust said nothing.

"Dante-sama...She's not going to be mad at us, is she?" Wrath asked her, his huge violet eyes worried and gleaming in the moonlight.

"If he recovers, then I wouldn't think so. But if he dies...I guess we'll find out."

It was hours later by the time Envy came around. The cold light of dawn was cracking the darkness and splattered the interior of the carriage compartment with patches of grey. The Homunculus coughed weakly and squinted, trying to get an idea of his bearings, but his vision was fuzzy and there was too sparse light too see anything anyway.

"Where..?" He began to ask, wincing as his chest tightnened and pain flashed over his skull.

"Shh, don't move so much. Your fever broke awhile ago, you'll be alright."

Envy felt the coolness of glass pushed against his lips.

"Try to drink this, okay?"

Too tired to protest, Envy accepted the water and found his thirst was so great he nearly choked as he speedily gulped down the contents of the cup. Coughing a little again, Envy's visionstarted to clear and he could finally make out the large, bulky shape of Alphonse Elric sitting on the floor beside him – taking up most of the room in the claustrophobic interior the small passgenger compartment. The smell of old cigarettes, machine grease and sweat crept into his nose and that along with the heartbeat rhythm of the train's motion, made the Shape shifter's stomach churn.

"Feel better?" Al took glass back and placed it near a large jug on the floor beside him. The table that usually divided the opposing seats of the compartment had been folded away – giving space for the huge suit of armor a place to sit to sit between the couches. On the seat across from Envy, the small figure of Edward was curled up beneath his red jacket – the black Alchemist's flamel winked back at the Sin with a watchful eye.

Envy ignored the question and sneered.

"What are you guys playing at exactly?" He growled – his voice hoarse. "Are you doing this just to piss me off?"

"We only want to help you, Envy-san,"

"Why? I'm a 'Bad Guy' aren't I? That would mean you're assisting the enemy."

"Hmm," Replied the armor, irritably composed. His reluctance to react as the Sin would like him to only ignited Envy's own temper and he smirked as he tried a different angle.

"I'm a murderer you know, I've killed people." The shapeshifter bared his teeth. "Lots of people.. Who's to say I won't _kill__you!_"

Al sat back and 'looked' at him for awhile. The Sin frowned as he studied the emotionless cold surface of the enchanted helmet – trying to determine the course of the younger Elrics thoughts. Finally, after a few moments of silent cogitation, Al's huge shoulders creaked with a shrug and he cocked his head to one side curiously.

"I don't think you will, Envy-san. If you wanted to, you would have done it ages ago. Nii-san and I even stood amongst all the Homunculus last night and nobody even touched us. Your Master_–_whomever they are – you have to listen to them, don't you? And they said you're not allowed to kill us, didn't they.."

Envy blinked a few times before groaning inwardly.

_(This must be the smart Elric... )_

"And besides," Al continued. "You may have done terrible things, yourself... but the baby hasn't. We can't let him suffer just because you're a bad person. I guess we'll just have to face whatever consequences there might be for you after he's born."

"But it's not going to _get_born!" Envy wrenched his upper body off the couch and gripped the collar of Al's breastplate with his thin, cold fingers. "I'm gonna get rid of it! I'm gonna _kill_it! It's an infection, a _disease!_That's all! And there's no way in hell I'm going to let it sit in _my_body, using up _my_strength just because everyone _else_wants another shitty little Elric running around! I-"

"Envy..."

Edwards voice was muffled as he shifted in his sleep on the couch opposite.

"What?" The Sin barked, vehemently.

"Shut up."

Envy snorted, anger dissolving into irritation as his energy proved too sparse to maintain his rage. He lay back on the itchy, worn seat of the couch and pulled the blanket back up to his chin, flicking off Al's hands with cross roll of his shoulder as the younger Elric tried to help him.

"You're not going to win," He muttered stubbornly as he closed his eyes, letting the fatigue drift another veil of sleep him. "You're not going to get me.."

_Too bad, Envy-chan, you're knocked up and in the arms of the enemy! Muahaha! I'm getting the feeling Envy's acting a little less psychotic than he is in the anime. I've kind of made him half his manga persona and half his anime persona... oh well. Given the circumstances, I reckon he's a little bit too confused to concentrate on hating Edward. AND he's not allowed to kill him - poor bugger._

_Okay, so there ya go - two at once. Look forward to the next chapter on Monday - I really MUST work now_


	5. Sanctuary

_Author's note: Something tells me I've posted this chapter later than I should have - whoopsie_

_I'd like to point out a couple of things that have crossed my mind as I've been writing this:_

_1) I was pretty sure the Homunculus didn't eat, yet in episode 35 Lust is drinking coffee while Envy has a the remnants of some kind of meal in front of him. Since I'm trying to emphasize the inhuman qualities of the Homunculus, I'm going to disregard this evidence and leave it at the fact that they CAN eat if they want to - they just don't have to._

_2) Many people are asking me about my mention of 'That Person'. Yes, I do mean Dante and I've changed the term to 'Our Master' for when the Homunculus are regarding her - to avoid further confusion. (Tokemeihihyou - I meant Hohenheim, but only as a joke )_

_I'm really pleased people are enjoying the fic - writing it is so much fun I have to watch I'm not neglecting my schoolwork. Yes, I do love to abuse Envy - I'm sure he's alright with the amount of pity he's recieving from YOU though, dear readers XD_

_Wondering what the baby may look like, Nimue1 eh? Mm, so do I - let's hope we get to see it XD_

_Well, I hope the spelling and grammar are ok (har de har har) - Kaira-chan, I put my faith in you! huggles_

_12/10 - Nope, they weren't..EDIT TIME! Stupid spellchecker left out a whole paragraph that I'd though I'd done! Damnitpoo! Thanks again, Kaira - you're a gem!_

**Dark Humor**

_Part the five: Sanctuary_

Ed blinked.

The sunlight was so bright. Not _quite_ to the point of blinding, but the strong enough to obscure most of the landscape's detail in a hot, nostalgic glow. The sky was perfect, limitless and unmarred – with not a wisp of cloud to be found. There was a gentle breeze, cool and friendly, scented with the aroma of spring. It whispered through his hair and brushed his cheek – causing a scatter of goose-pimples to roll across the exposed skin.

He was standing on a small pebbled path at the gate of a white picket fence which surrounded a little, yellow-painted cottage. Delicate sprays of candy coloured sweet william decorated the posts and daisies blossomed like stars on the neatly cut lawn. The setting was cheery, quaint - yet the Alchemist could not help feeling a tad suspicious. There was no one else in sight – _nothing_else in the entire area save for the house, the gate and the garden.

The sound of birdsong could be heard, yet Edward was certain he had not seen one fly overhead nor were there any trees around for them to perch in.

It was all a trifle odd, to say the least. Why was he in this weird place? Hadn't he been on a train or something?

"Where...the hell..." Edward muttered to himself, squinting as the glare of the sun reflected off the house's sunny paint job, hurting his eyes. "...am I?"

"What do you mean?"

The Alchemist jumped as a small, blond-haired child appeared - seemingly out of nowhere - on the opposite side of the gate and stared up at him questioningly with huge, violet eyes.

"Uh...Sorry, I think I'm lost. Can you tell me where this is?" Ed tried smiling at the small boy, but he couldn't help thinking there was something strange about him. Something about his eyes... He'd seen them before...

"Don't be silly!" The boy laughed - a shrill, penetrating whinny that echoed off the walls of the house and pierced the melody in the air. "You're at home, Daddy!"

Ed's eyes widened and he gasped, opening and closing his mouth a few times in shock.

"Duh-duh dad-dy?"

"Haha! You look like a fish, daddy!"

"Wh-wha?"

"Oi, Hagane O'chibi san!" Edward jerked his head away from the hypnotic, laughing eyes of the child and looked up to see the slender shadow of Envy standing in standing in nonchalant controposture against the front doorframe. "Are you drunk? You get lost on your way back from the pub? "

"Pub?" Edward, momentarily dumbfounded, could only repeat words. He gaped as the Sin walked up to him, smiling, and rested his one of his hands on the top of the gate. The other he waggled in front of the blonds face.

"Yes! The Pub...where you're usually found after work – or did a few beers help that slip your mind?" He clicked his tongue in mock condescence. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Fing-...wha?"

"How many hands, then?"

Edward just shook his head.

"God, you _are_drunk aren't you? Can't even remember where you've been – you silly thing!" Envy half closed his eyes and to Edwards horror, ran a silky, gloved hand up the side of the Alchemist's cheek. "Well I know _just_what to do with _you_..."

He curled his fingers in the material of Ed's jacket and pulled him close, opening the gate with his other hand. Disregarding Edwards obvious confusion and terror, the Sin led him slowly up the path, through the front door and into the house.

"Hohenheim," He called over Ed's shoulder to the child outside. "Play in the yard for awhile, 'kay?"

"'Kay!"

"H-h-hohenheim?" Ed stuttered as Envy led him into what only could be the Master bedroom. The Alchemist blinked as he looked at the walls and decor – wondering why, since the house was so nice outside, the room was decorated like some kind of cheesy motel.

"Yes, Hohenhiem," Envy kept his disconcerting grin as he slowly removed Ed's jacket, gazing impishly into his eyes. "Our son, if you'd remember correctly?"

"B-but that's the name of my-"

"Aww, Edo-chan!" The Shapeshifter feigned hurt, sticking out his lower lip comically. "We agreed on that name 'cause you said it had to stay in the family – don't bring this up again, you'll ruin it!"

"Ruin what?" Ed squeaked as his shirt was removed. Envy climbed on top of him and closed his eyes – running his hands over Edwards naked chest. If he'd been a cat, he would have been purring like mad. "H-hey! Stop!"

"You don't really want me to, do you?" The Sin's naughty smile elogated – turning seductive and he leaned over, kissing Edward gently on the mouth.

Surprisingly, the Alchemist – though his brain frantically bashed the alarm bells and screamed "This is fucked up right here!" in his ears – found himself relaxing into the embrace and when a tongue carefully, almost politely, flicked across his lips he accepted it. Envy tasted cool and sweet like peppermints – though his touch made Edward's mouth tingle as though he'd licked the tip of a battery.

"That's much better," Envy whispered as he moved his kisses lower, exploring the smooth area around Ed's neck and collarbone. Ed let out a hiss as the shapeshifters teeth grazed a nipple then again as a tongue flicked deftly down his flat, rippling stomach to circle a few times in his navel. Envy sat up, pleased with the chargrined blush that had crept arcoss the blond's cheeks and ran his hands slowly up the Alchemists sides.

Letting his clothing dissappear with a flash of rippling blue-white light he bent over again, slowly, til his face was positioned above Ed's – his long, brackish hair spilling over his back, tickling the other's waist.

"Oi," He breathed, lips parted slightly. "You want me to be someone else, this time? I can be anyone, remember..."

Edward simply stared at him, noting with dull consternation how extremely magnetic Envy's chosen form was. Pale, flawless - Ed found himself feeling slightly jealous of the Sin's immaculate body. He really _did_resemble something of a jungle cat – a smooth, sleek, seductive creature that was...No he wasn't. He _wasn't!_

_He can't be turning me on!_

When the Alchemist said nothing, Envy let out a satisfied sigh and took hold of Edwards hands by his wrists, gently skimming them over his own form.

"Ah, you want _me,_don't you.." Ed's fingers were running up the shapeshifter's silky legs, past his narrow hips and round to his ass – his nice ass, his really, _really_tight ass. The Alchemist clenched his teeth as he felt his excitement rise. "You _always_want me – even when I could take any form you desire. That makes me very happy, you know.."

Another kiss, rougher this time – filled with passion and urgency – smudged over Eds' lips and he felt the startling sensation of Envy's hand sliding down, past his belly, past his hips to the top of his pants. The fingers twiddled with the buckle of his belt before the object fell away, then they travelled again, down...down...

Edward sucked in a breath.

There was a _zzzzzzip_

Then Envy's hand was rubbing where it shouldn't, teasing where it shouldn't, caressing _what_ it shouldn't and the Sin was whispering in his ear again – nibbling at the lobe as he gasped through panted breaths.

"Well, you're all excited now aren't you, my Hagane 'Ochibi-chan. But you still look kinda tense... How about I _relax_ you a bit, hmmm?"

Edward squeezed his eyes shut .

_Oh__god,__I__am_not _enjoying__this!__This__is_not _happening!__I__am__not,__I'm_NOT!

Envy's head moved down and the careful pressure caused Edward to gasp.

_Oh__GOD__NO!__Fuck!__Get__down__you__stupid__bastard!__I__don't__want__this,__I_ don't! _Fuck,__shit,__damn,__crap!__Uhh,__Winry!__Winry,__Winry,__Winry__ – __wait,__that__doesn't__work.__Roy!__Uhh,__no,__try__again...Armstrong!__Armstrong,__Armstrong,__Armstrong..._

"What's wrong, Edward," Came a voice between the exquisite flashes of pleasure that emanated from his groin. "Don't you like it?"

_!_

The last 'Oh shit!" wrenched Edward from his nightmare, and he shot up out of the seat to find himself face to face with the carriage waitress who stood gaping - frozen in surprise at his outburst. A hot, steaming plate of waffles hung in midair between her serving tray and the compartment table as the flustered woman blushed.

"I-I'm sorry sir, the..uhh..._Armored__Gentleman_ ordered it for you. If you don't want it I can change it..."

"Ah! No, no sorry! I didn't mean- umm...Bad dream, aheh." Edward grinned sheepishly. "Yes, please. I do want it. Thanks"

The waitress nodded and placed his breakfast on the central table – which Al must have obviously set up while he was sleeping. Wondering briefly where his brother could have got to, Ed shrugged and picked up his knife and fork – too hungry at the particular moment to think. Inhaling deeply with anticipation, he sighed – the food smelled _good._

But just as he was about to take a nice, sizeable bite a rickety, cracking voice from the other couch let out a moan.

"_What__hell__is__that__awful__stench?"_

Edward blinked – giving his befuddled, his sleep-clouded mind a moment to process the statement before he let out a pained groan.

Oh yeah, that's right. Envy...

"It's my breakfast." He informed the Sin, who had by now rolled over out of the blanket and was squinting at Edward with heavy-lidded, red-rimmed eyes. "Something you probably should have too I'd imagine."

"I'm not consuming anything that smells worse than what comes back_out_of my stomach" Envy replied, acidly.

"Good," Edward put the bite in his mouth and chewed happily. "Cos' ish iz my fafo-it.."

Envy grumbled and pulled himself upright, hugging his knees. Despite the sarcastic remark, Ed could see he was clearly interested in what was on his plate as his violet eyes examined the portion curiously.

A few minutes of porcerlain silence later the door of the compartment slid open with a sudden _bang_ and Al literally jumped into the room bearing a handful of complimentary hot towels. It was lucky his armored helmet was stuck in a permanent grin – the younger boy never really seemed to have room for any other emotion besides optimism.

"Only three more hours to Dublith!" He sang, happily. "It's _such_a beautiful day outside! Oh, Envy-san, you're awake. Wonderful! If you're hungry I ordered breakfast. I thought you and Nii-san could share because it's quite...it's quite...oh..."

Edward looked up from the plate from which he'd already consumed three-quarters of the waffles – another forkful halfway to his mouth. Envy rolled his eyes.

"Oops, I forgot. Al scratched at the back of his metal head. "That's the one Nii-san really likes... I- um... I could get you some fruit...or something else if you'd-"

"I want that." Envy pointed at the remaining mess of maple syrup and waffle. Ed scowled.

"Uh, well...Nii-san, you should..."

"Yeah, yeah yeah..." Edward sighed, shoving the plate over to Envy who prodded at it a few times with his finger. "There's a clean knife and fork in that serviette over...oh never mind" He added as the Sin broke off a piece and popped it in his mouth, sucking his fingers thoughtfully. It tasted better than he'd imagined, prompting a vague recollection that he had once been quite fond of sweet things.

Alphonse breathed a silent sigh of relief as he watched Envy slowly pick at his meal. At least he was eating – that was a good sign. The metal boy had been killing himself with worry throughout the night as the Sin writhed and groaned on the makeshift bed, suffering high temperatures, chilling sweats and delerium – which caused him to mutter strange, incomprehensable monologues beneath his breath, though Al could have sworn he thought he was talking to someone.

Luckily the express train had quite a well-stocked first aid cupboard and the nightwatchman had been a great help as he issued the boys with as many useful items as he could possibly find. Once they'd managed to get Envy's stomach to hold down a measure of thick, pink acetaminophen ibuprofen, the brothers set themselves to the task of reducing his body temperature with damp towels and tepid water as they waited for the fever medicine to activate. At about three o'clock in the morning the mercury-based indicator level on the themometer finally read below 100 and once the Sin was breathing normally again Ed had dragged his weary body onto the other couch and fallen alseep.

"How is it, Envy-san?" The Metal boy asked politely as Envy finished the last morsel on the plate. The shapshifter his finger along a trail of syrup and shrugged.

"No wonder the shorty hasn't grown – this amount of sugar all the time has probably stunted him."

"_Who__are__you__calling__a__stunted__super__freak__who__needs__a__ladder__to__touch__the__top__of__a__four-year-olds__head?"_ Ed yelled, overreacting typically.

"It's taken a bit of that horrible taste out of my mouth though," Envy ignored him, making a face as he chewed his tongue suspiciously. "What _is_that?"

"Acetaminophen," answered the miffed Alchemist, wiping his hands on one of the towels his brother had brought in. "The first aid attendant gave it to us. It's supposed to be really effective but we had to give it to you a couple of times 'cause you kept throwing it up."

"You didn't bring up any of those stone thingys though," added Al quickly, noticing Envy start to pale. "So it's okay!"

The Sin studied the brothers for a few seconds through wary, knitted brows. He seemed to want to ask something, but couldn't quite forage up the nerve to be civil. Ed rolled his head back dramatically and huffed.

"You had a high fever - your temperature reached around 106 degrees at one point – that's pretty serious," He explained grumpily. "Look, sorry for _helping_you – god knows some part of me would rather watch you suffer – "

"Nii-san!" scolded Al.

"- But I'm not that kind of person. So you can sit there and be as shitty and as miserable as you like but you can't change the fact that you recieved aid from a _human._You owe us...and for now, a truce will do."

"I don't owe you anything!"

"Hey, you brought this on yourself," Ed crossed his arms. "I'd like to see you deal with it all alone."

"What do you care," The Sin sneered, scratching random kana in the leftover syrup on the plate with his fingernail. "I don't need your damn help!"

"Oh yeah?" Ed tilted his head, making his blond bangs sway. "What if you got sick again? Could you handle that? Would you know which type of medication to take? Could you trust a doctor? _And_you're pregnant, remember - what about the labor, huh? What if there were complications? What if it were transverse or breech? What if you were bleeding internally? How would you intend to give birth by yourself anyway? Being in the form you're in..."

"I'm not gonna give-"

"Oh you say that," Ed rolled his eyes. "But even if you _did_manage to miscarry, how would you get rid of the body? It can't just magically dissappear... The amount you've let it grow, it's probably become quite a good size, so it would just be _sitting_there, rotting or something. Now, would you bully someone into doing it for you or would you just cut _yourself_ open? Take a blade, make a slice and just drag that thing right out of your stomach? That's a great way to bleed to death."

Envy stared at the sticky mess on the plate – his hand frozen as he watched the characters 'korosu' melt back into a goopy puddle.

"We know your body hasn't been acting the way it should." Ed continued. "We know you can't heal like you used to. What if it stayed that way and you _did_try to remove it? Are you really prepared to kill yourself over some stupid mistake?"

The Homunculus was silent.

"Since we both have a part in this – even though it_wasn't__my__fault__ –_we should at least attempt to co-operate in order to get the whole thing over with as painlessly as possible. Then you can go back to doing whatever you were doing and I'll return to my business. Do we have a deal?"

"Fucking smart-arse bastard," said Envy.

"I'll take that as a yes..."

Dante had been sitting in her study for some time before Lust finally entered – Gluttony trotting beside her; his right index finger, as usual, adhered to his mouth.

As the woman looked up sharply from yet another complex alchemy tome, the Sin realized she was late and quickly bowed her head in apology.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"You followed them all the way to the station then hung around until the train was completely out of sight? What a nice sister you are – giving your brother such a long farewell."

"Forgive me."

"What where you doing up until now? It's ten o' clock in the morning – you were supposed to return immediately so we could begin our journey to Ishbal. Or did you forget...?"

Lust frowned, confused.

"We're going to Ishbal?"

"Of course." Dante put her book down on her lap and foled her hands over it, serenely. "We're going to be following that Scar-fellow for awhile – just to see if he's still interested in creating the Philosophers stone."

"But what about the Elrics?"

"Oh they're _far_too busy with Envy on their hands now," Dante gave a small laugh. "It's unfortunate to lose him for such a long time – his powers are very handy for gathering information and assasination work – but having him actually _stay_with the brothers is possibly the best investigatory mission I've ever sent him on."

"Did he know it was a mission?" Lust asked.

"Genuine fear encourages genuine conern," Dante shook her head. "If I _had_ told him, he'd have been 'acting' too much. Edward wouldn't expect Envy to be civil – that's too human for him. He may be easily surprised, but he's smarter than he looks."

The Sin nodded slowly in agreement as her master's smile turned devilish.

"Besides," she continued. "The Alchemist is bound to develop a little compassion towards our boy – regardless of how the situation began. I doubt this is going to be easy on Envy – just as I doubt Edward would sit back and watch him writhe in pain. And just imagine – " Dante laughed suddenly. "- later on, if they find themselves face to face in battle! Imagine trying to kill the one who bore your child! How terrible!"

The woman was laughing as though she thought it were a terrific joke. Lust cracked a wobbling smile to please her – though inside she could only feel resentment boil.

"We'll return later once the baby is about to be born," Dante pressed a thin hand to her breast, still chuckling. "We can decide what to do with it then."

"What if," Lust looked at her master with leaden, violet eyes. "What if Envy doesn't survive the birth?"

"Then we'll name the child after him, or something of the like," Dante met the Homunculus' gaze cooly. "Don't get worked up about your brother, Lust. He's only a created human, after all."

Lust nodded – though behind her back her fingers were clenched so tighly into her palms they drew blood.

The sun was high in the sky by the time the three travellers reached Dublith and though the weather was indefinitely pleasant for walking, Edward hitched a ride for them all on the back of a farm truck that was heading near Izumi's house. There was no way he was going to let Envy stay out in the open for long...

...Just as there was no way Envy was going to let Alphonse carry him across town on his back.

_The humiliation!_

Instead, he grumbled and sulked the entire way through the streets of Dublith, complaining about anything and everything he possibly could. Ed's height was mentioned numerous times – though the Alchemist was able to ignore the jibes, labelling them cheap shots and challenging Envy to think of something mildly original to insult him about.

Not one to back down, Envy called him:

'A stupid human'

'A worthless idiot'

'A complete moron'

'A sack of pitiful emotions'

'A bastard'

'A shithead'

'A fucking know-it-all'

and 'A useless lay'

Edward shrugged.

"Well, I may be all those things," He looked up at the cheery cirrus clouds that danced across the sky, chewing on the end of a piece of straw. "But at least I'm not fat..."

The Rules of Debate clearly denote that most arguements generally end in one of two conclusions – either one side is proved to have the correct opinion and thus determined the 'winner' or both parties settle at a stalemate, when there is not enough evidence is available to judge the cases.

The Rules of Debate are most ancient and fair – having been created to prevent inessential struggles and folly between men.

But Envy was not a man – well, not a _human_man anyway. And Envy wasn't partial to rules.

_Ooooh__no_– he wasn't fond of regulations one bit.

In fact, he was more in favour of opting for conclusion 'c' – where one of the parties would viciously launch themselves in a kamikaze attack at the other's _head_ in attempt to strangle the awful smirk blemishing the opposition's face.

Which is exactly what he did.

Now this course of action had always worked well for the Sin in the past, however without his usual strength, the shapeshifter found himself at a disadvantage to his adversary. Indeed, Edward's stamina seemed to triple his own – and this only irked the Sin further as they both wrestled and tumbled about on the back of the pickup, slamming against the sides and sending tufts of dirt and hay into the air.

Unfortunately, as most comedies call for a certain element of slapstick so does life and as the farm truck pulled to a halt a trite too abruptly outside the Curtis' residence, both boys found themselves thrown forward sharply, then backwards - gravity tugging them mercilessly from the flatbed.

"Sorry Lads," The Farmer called from the cab – though his voice was tinged with more amusement than apology. "Brakes ain't as good as they used to be.."

"Er, they're fine, don't worry!" Alphonse leapt off the flatbed immediately, thanking their ride with a swift, polite bow. As the truck rumbled out of sight, he turned to address those sprawled on the dusty road. "Are you two alright?"

Edward was sitting crosslegged, rubbing the back of his head. He nodded.

"Yeah, I think so... How 'bout you buta-chan?" He grinned as Envy, who was doubled over, clutching his ankle, could only glare back. Alphonse knelt beside him and carefully pried his fingers away from his foot. A brief, yet fairly professional inspection prompted him to shake his armored head.

"Looks like you might have twisted it," He concluded.

"Great, now he's fat _and_munted."

"Nii-san!" To Envy's delight, Alphonse swatted irritably at his brother. "That's not fair! It was your fault in the first place!"

"Oh, so he can call me all the names under the sun that he pleases and I just have to sit back and take it, do I?"

"You _did_tell him to."

Edward grumbled at his brothers annoyingly accurate memory as the metal boy carefully picked the Homunculus off the ground. Envy smirked at him from over Al's shoulder and kept doing so as he was carried over to Izumi's doorstep.

Edward knocked, tentatively.

They waited.

Then door opened slowly and the familiar, dreadlocked silhouette of Izumi Curtis appeared – flour coated her hair and apron. She startled a little in surprise as she saw her former students, but her shock was soon replaced by a warm smile.

"Well, look who it is! What brings you boys all the way out here?"

"Uhh, Good afternoon Sensei!" Alphonse stammered. "How have you been?"

"Uh, well, we were just in the neighbourhood.." squeaked Ed at the same time.

There was a brief pause. The woman raised an eyebrow, slowly.

"Well, I'm fine of course...But-"

"Oi," a voice from within Alphonses' arms interrupted. "Are we going inside or are we going to stand out here all day like fenceposts?"

Izumi looked up, bewildered. Envy was glowering down at her from his perch against Al's chest, a haughty sneer cutting his face. Stray bits of straw stuck out of his hair – making him look as though he'd been rolling around in a barn.

"I'm sorry... I don't believe we've met." Izumi wiped her hand on her apron and extended it to the shapeshifter. "If my students were possibly a little more _polite,_I'm sure we'd have been introduced by now... I'm Izumi Curtis"

Envy ignored the hand and huffed – rudely turning his nose up at the woman.

"Um, Sensei?" Edward shuffled inside awkwardly. "This is Envy."

"Ah! Well nice to meet you, Envy-ku...Wait.." Izumi's hand lowered and her eyes narrowed. "Envy? Isn't that the guy who...?"

"Um, yeah,"

_"Oh, so you tell this woman about everyone you fuck?"_

"What the..?" The woman stammered in disbelief. "What the _hell_have you brought him here for? Is he sick or something?"

"Not...exactly," Edward went red. "He's...um... Well I kinda...um... You see-"

"He knocked me up," finished Envy, bluntly – pointing at the culprit. Izumi paled.

_"Oh...my...god..."_

_Korosu - 'Kill' (to kill, kills - as far as my dictionary states anyway.)_

_Buta-chan - 'Little pig' ( I kinda made that up - dunno if it's a real insult. Sakura often calls Ino 'Ino-buta' in Naruto and that means 'Ino-pig'_

_Well, that's chapter 5 over and done with - hope y'all got a good laugh. Now eat your greens and worship thine Envy.. Chapter 6 is due hopefully this time next week (then updates should be more frequent as all my classes are over for the summer)_


	6. Food for thought

**A/N: I will NOT turn Envy into a girl.**

_(oh yeah, and I don't own shit...)_

**Dark Humor**

_Part 6: Food for thought._

Izumi closed the kitchen door behind her quietly, leaning against it as she massaged her temples. Ed and Al were sitting at the solid wooden table in the middle of the room that was used as a food preparation bench - Al had his head bowed meekly while his older brother cradled his chin in his hand, absently nursing a tall glass of juice. Neither had spoken.

Their teacher sighed. Well, that had been easier than she'd expected.

After the initial shock of meeting the Shape shifter, Izumi had ushered him off as briskly as she could to the guest bedroom - muttering nonsense excuses about him being 'tired after the journey' and that she 'had to talk to Ed and Al'. Strangely enough, the Sin didn't protest and when Al placed him gently on the bed she'd found that he'd all but passed out. Sending the younger Elric to wait in the kitchen, she proceeded to check the Homunculus for hidden weapons or dangerous articles. When she was satisfied that he was indeed unarmed, she moved to investigate his condition.

Izumi's expression tightened and she drew in a sharp breath as her hand glided over the small swell in his lower belly. The boys had been telling the truth. Envy was indeed with child and - Izumi frowned as she looked over his thin frame - the pregnancy definitely wasn't going to be easy on him. Aside from the fact that he was male and lacked certain..._important__parts,_he seemed awfully weak and tired - not a good condition when one adds the stress of a growing baby.

The Alchemist shook her head a little and pulled a blanket over him - she'd just have to see what the Elric's wanted to do. After all, he appeared to be their charge at the moment. But if they wanted help, they only had to ask.

Ever the efficient hostess, Izumi made sure there was a jug of water and a glass on the bedside table, half-drew the curtains and soundlessly tiptoed out of the room - locking the door behind her.

_Well,__he_was _a__Homunculus,__after__all._

"He's asleep."

The older brother gave a grunt and looked up from the table.

"Really? What did you hit him with?"

"Edward!"

_"What?"_ Ed screwed up his face in exasperation. "Oh alright, fine. I take it back. But I don't see why everyone seems to be on _his_side!"

"I'm not," Izumi stopped rubbing her forehead and flicked a stray dreadlock behind her ear. "I just think you should take the whole situation a little more seriously."

"What part of this _situation_could you possibly call serious?" Ed retaliated. "I'm looking after a pregnant _man,_who got knocked up by _me_by pretending to be a prostitute, drugging me and forcing me to have sex with her...uh... him! To boot, he's not even human!" Edward shook his head in disbelief. "Now, he gets to act the little bitch while I get told off for trying to stop him!"

"Edward," Izumi gave an ironic smile. "You're not _stopping_him you're only egging him on. It's almost a pity that Alphonse is such a model younger brother otherwise you may have gotten a little more practice in ignoring characters like Envy."

"I guess," Ed muttered.

"It's not that I feel sorry for him at all," Izumi went on to confess. "But because he _is_carrying a child... Not to mention, _your_child. If the story's as you say..."

There was a moment of tense silence.

"He really is, isn't he Sensei..." Alphonse stated, quietly.

Izumi nodded.

"No doubt about it, he's a little over two months - that seems about right, doesn't it Ed?"

"You checked him out?"

"After he fell asleep," the woman rubbed her neck. "I thought it best to confirm. Health-wise the child seems to be all right. Envy is exhausted, but that's pretty natural for this stage. He's been ill though, hasn't he? Not long ago either..."

"He has... B-but Sensei, would that hurt the baby?" Al's voice was thick and wobbling with innocent concern. His teacher walked over to the table and sat down, patting the younger brothers' shoulder reassuringly.

"Kids are tougher than you think. Though I can't tell much else at the moment - not without specialist equipment anyway - it has a good, strong heartbeat." The woman smiled. "I think the baby is actually better off than its _parent_ right now..."

The three sat at the table processing the information in yet another short bout of knocked-up silence.

"I'm sorry, Sensei," Ed spoke suddenly, running a finger down the condensation on his glass.

"What for?"

"Bringing him here," Ed sighed. "I couldn't think of anywhere else to take him. Rizenbul seemed too close and I wanted to get as far away from...well, everything... But now that I think about it -someone who's going to have a child...and you... well..."

"Don't be stupid Edward!" Izumi scolded. "You wouldn't know what to do with this boy - even if you read all the books in the world! Pregnancy is a woman's turf...uhh... _mostly_... You've bought him to as better person as any... And besides," Her anger softened into a small, sad smile. "It may not have worked out for me, but life isn't perfect. I _did_get the chance at least."

"So...you don't mind helping us? You don't mind if we stay?"

"Of course not. I'm actually quite surprised at how well you're dealing with this, Edward. Most people would be on their third heart-attack by now."

Ed shrugged.

"Ever since I got myself mixed up in the mystery of the Philosophers Stone, I've seen enough strange things to last me a lifetime. Homunculi, Chimeras, people of strange religious cults and beliefs, _fireworks..._I've turned my brother into a walking suit of armor, my mother into an artificial human and _myself_into a military-operated alchemist-for-hire. When that bastard came up to me and told me he was going to have _my_child, I was tempted to say 'What next?' rather than 'Oh my God!"

"Actually, you said 'It's not possible!', Nii-san"

"You _know_what I mean, Al."

Izumi laughed.

"Well, that's fair enough I suppose. But with the stunt Envy pulled earlier, I would have been worried they were tricking you again."

"Nah," Edward scratched beneath his thick braid. "Well, yeah - I did consider that. But when we picked him up, all the other Homunculi were with him - as though they were...watching over him. It was weird. I'd kinda got the impression that they hated each other, but Lust actually came to _beg_for our help."

"That _is_ odd,"

"I know, it seemed completely ridiculous at first. But after she'd been talking awhile... I dunno, I was at a bit of a loss. It seemed either they'd thought the story through incredibly well or she really was telling the truth."

"You've been fooled by them before, though" The woman rested her chin on the heel of her hand. "The Priest in Liore, The 5th Laboratory, The Fuhrer's secretary... and _then_that prank Envy pulled that has seemingly got him into this trouble..."

Ed nodded.

"Only I couldn't help but believe this one. Lust's concern...All of their concern... It seemed so genuine. Homunculi aren't humans but the way they were acting - it wasn't _acting,_y'know? Also, I doubt even the best player could simulate the illness Envy had. If they aren't supposed to get sick, how would they know how to act? And apparently this guy is supposed to hate pain. I doubt he would have been too enthusiastic to play a role that included all the stuff he's had to put up with in the last twelve hours."

"Guess we really _are_stuck with him then," Izumi cocked an eyebrow. "But are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this? You be don't have to, you know. And you can't even be sure if it really _is_your child..."

"Something tells me Envy doesn't go around bonking other guys very often. He just did that to get a rise out of me."

"So to speak," Izumi barely suppressed a giggle. Ed shot her an evil look.

"Anyway," He concluded. "I'd be abandoning my own kid if I didn't help him. I won't do that. I _can't_. No matter who the...uh _bears_the child." The boy frowned, his golden eyes blazing. "I'm not going to be like my father."

His teacher nodded. If there was one thing Edward would never do it would be to replicate his father's actions. The mans' estrangement from his family had burn a hole in the young Alchemists heart and Izumi knew that even if it meant co-operating with his enemies, he would not lower himself to Hohenheim's level.

"Nii-san," Al piped up, suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"You know how, on the train you were telling Envy-san about all that bad stuff that could happen to him..."

"What about it?"

"How did you _know_all of that?" Al leaned forward, his voice completely awestruck. "That was amazing! I had no idea you were so knowledgeable about babies!"

Izumi raised her eyebrows. Edward scrubbed his chin with his steel forefinger and sniggered.

"Hrm, well I figured I'd have to shut him up at some point, so I did a little research. Remember that book I was reading while you were trying to give him the medicine?" The Alchemist leaned over and fished in the pocket of his traveling jacket that was hanging over the back of the chair. After a second he twisted back around, a thick, worn medical journal in his hand. "I found this in the first aid kit the night watch guy gave us. There's a huge section just on Birth and Labor emergencies – packed full with some _real_nasty stuff. I thought I'd give Envy some 'worst case scenarios' to worry about."

"That and it made you look smart," Izumi took the book and turned it over in her hands. "Good strategy. I doubt Envy would know much about his condition. Most boys your age - especially ones who have been stuck in books and Alchemy practices for most of his teen years-" she drummed her fingers on the paperback cover, smirking at Ed. "- would think you could get a girl pregnant just by _looking_at them!"

There was a horrified gasp from Alphonse's direction.

"It's alright, Al," Edward sighed. "You _can't."_

"Oh good! So we don't have to worry about Winry then?"

"I wouldn't have anyway. I don't think that machine geek even _is_a girl!"

A good six weeks passed without much drama and in that time Envy slowly recovered from his illness and fatigue. At first he'd been very quiet and sullen - ignoring those who entered the darkness and solitude of his room as he remained curled up in an antisocial ball beneath the covers. But as his strength grew, his usual temper returned with a vengeance. After a fortnight of having a sulky yet well behaved patient in the household, the Curtis's and the Elric's were soon to discover two very important facts about the now healthier Homunculus:

1) When aggravated - which, due to his condition was fairly often - Envy liked to throw things.

No one was too sure _where_exactly he'd managed to accumulate ammunition from, but the question was never addressed. The first fact was annoying enough, but was made even more dangerous when it was made clear that,

2) Envy was a particularly good shot.

Mostly, he aimed at heads - though when Edward entered the room the target moved to groins.

All in all, Envy progressed to act exactly as Izumi had imagined he would - annoying, irritable and ridiculously rude. Luckily, he'd never really found the strength and cunning to be dangerous, but still the woman was smart enough to make sure all knives and pointy objects were safely locked away and that at night, the door to the guest room was secure. The Homunculus made several biting comments about being 'made prisoner' by the Curtis', but Izumi pointed out that he could come and go as he pleased during the day - it was just when darkness fell she'd rather have him inside.

For his sake, _of__course_.

Envy had sniffed at this, but made sure that as soon as he stopped wobbling on his feet, he was up and annoying her as much as possible. The kitchen, he'd decided, was the most fun place. Izumi wasn't the best of cooks. Envy figured that if she wasn't reminded of the fact at least six times a day, he wasn't doing his job properly and it was only divine intervention, or a good shot with a wet dish cloth that shut him up. Also he liked to be near the knives - just the look on the woman's face when he slowly reached for a large, heavy cleaver tended to satisfy his mischief-tooth for the day. He wouldn't hurt her, of course. He wasn't stupid - he'd seen her husband.

In fact, he hadn't really the urge to hurt _anyone_in the past few months. Though he'd originally planned to off the couple and their shop hand whilst the Elrics weren't around, he'd found that he didn't really have the energy to kill. Nor the speed and that was a major factor - especially when there was an Alchemist and a very large husband with equally large fists involved.

His second plan was to leave and return to Dante's and... and... And what? Fall incredibly ill again? He knew that his pregnancy had triggered several drastic changes in his body - one of them being the beguiling sickness that had plagued him with fevers and chills for weeks at a time. Even though Dante and his siblings had done all they could to help him, he only seemed to get worse. Before the Elrics turned up on their doorstep he'd been so desperately weak it was a miracle he hadn't died! Of course, once he'd left the Manor and his master behind, he'd recuperated almost as quickly and mysteriously as he'd gotten ill - only proving that he was better off away from the Fortress beneath Central.

So really, the only logical plan was to stay put.

_Yippee..._

On the bright side, Edward and Alphonse often returned to Central for days at a time to keep suspicious eyes away from Dublith and 'check in' with their military superiors. Envy still hated Edward with a passion and was overjoyed in a way that the Alchemist had to leave every once and awhile. Ever since he'd passed the nauseous stage of his first trimester, he'd stopped feeling constantly ill and so the attempts to teach himself to projectile vomit on Ed's shoes, sort of petered out as throwing things moved back into the hotspot of entertainment.

After awhile, even target practice got boring.

Yet, besides Edward, what irked the Shape shifter most of all was the fact that he didn't really feel very comfortable waltzing around in his admittedly sparse outfit anymore. What he'd been able to hide quite successfully for three months by simply pulling up the waistband of his loincloth had suddenly - almost overnight - become noticeably _larger._

When Izumi found him wandering around one day wearing one of Shigu's t-shirts - though really it was closer to _swimming_around as the hemline hung well below his knees and the gaping neck fell quite a way down over his thin, white shoulder - she decided she had better find something else for him to wear. Edwards old shirts were too short and her own too narrow. In the end she grabbed a handful of Mason's and altered them to fit the smaller, skinnier Homunculus. Naturally, all her consideration and careful work were completely ignored as Envy continued to steal Shigu's tops from his drawer out of spite - but his plan was foiled once Izumi hid them away from his thieving hands.

For a week the new shirts were worn either inside out or the wrong way around until Envy got over his sulkiness and put them on properly.

Izumi grinned as she made a mental tally on the Homunculus vs. Alchemist scoreboard.

"Oh, sorry. Did that hurt?"

The Sin jumped as the woman's cold hands prodded his sensitive flesh - hitting a ticklish point. He made a face. Why was it once he'd covered himself up a bit, everyone started _looking_at him. Not only that, this Izumi-person thought it her right to prod him around as though he were some kind of experiment.

He hated being touched; he really did - though when he'd snapped at her the first time, she'd explained she was only examining the progress of the fetus. After all, she wasn't sure exactly how the baby was positioning itself in his abdomen - he didn't want it to become entangled in anything, did he? Envy had retorted - muttering something along the lines of suffocation and wanting to wring its neck once it was born anyway - to which Izumi had fired back an onset of midwifery jargon, enough to make even the loudmouth Homunculus silence himself.

_One more for the Alchemists..._

So there he lay on the cool, white sheets of his bed - shirt scrunched up under his arms - baring the gentle curve of his belly for Izumi's probing fingertips and trying desperately not to blush in humiliation. Not that the woman would have noticed, she was much too professional in her work, but regardless he still felt completely ludicrous.

Finally she finished poking him and perched on the side of the bed - a frown crumpling her features as Envy tugged his shirt down irritably and sat up, glaring at her. It wasn't that he wanted to ask her if anything was wrong, but his silence seemed to demand an update on his condition.

"The baby is fine," She explained, linking her hands between her knees.

"Whoop-de-doo, I'm _so_pleased."

Izumi fought the urge to roll her eyes - instead settling for a resigned sigh.

"It seems your illness hasn't produced any kind of adverse effects - which in itself is a miracle. But, Envy, you're far too thin."

"So?"

"So!" The woman exhaled patiently. "Babies take up a lot of energy - you're providing for two now, understand? You eat less than what I throw to the birds - you need try to gain a little weight to support the growth of the child."

"That's happening without my even _having_to try!" Envy glared at her.

"It's not the same thing!" Izumi scraped her hair out of her face. "The baby is going to get bigger regardless, but you need to fuel both it and yourself to function normally. Please try, at the very least to down a little more than what's absolutely necessary. If you don't you'll just end up bedridden again - being fed through a drip."

_You're_a drip," Envy grumbled.

"And you're obnoxious," Izumi shot back - staring coolly down her nose at him. "Since you're accepting our help, why can't you be a little nicer? I'm aware that's not really in your nature, but you _could_try to at least be civil."

"Civil?" Envy snorted. "You're not dead, are you?"

"I suppose that's the limit to your generosity."

"You're telling a guy who hasn't eaten for over a century to get used to the idea of consuming food. A little naive, don't you think? Anyway, I'm only playing along because I have to," The Sin muttered, shifting his gaze toward the window. He didn't like these kinds of conversations. They always ended up underlining his weakness and that very subject was the one thing that truly irked him at the moment. "When this whole fiasco is over I'll terminate you all, don't worry."

"Of course," Izumi replied levelly, brushing aside the totally unconvincing threat. She knew far better than to take him seriously - especially when he couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye.

"Don't use that _belittling_tone of voice - I'll _will_ kill you. You and all the rest."

"You don't need to justify yourself to me."

Envy flopped back against the pillows, crossing his arms and exhaling forcibly in annoyance. He sounded stupid and juvenile - he knew it. But it was the only cover he could use in attempt to shroud the heavy anxiety that nibbled on the edge of his mind. If they all said he was better, then he should _feel_a trite more lively, shouldn't he? Why was this limitless fatigue plaguing him? Why did he feel so _odd_in his skin - as though it didn't belong to him anymore? Certainly it had something to do with the child slowly developing inside him, but...would these physical changes even go so far to change his entire attitude?

Just because he held life, did it mean he had to care for life as well?

The Sin curled his lip and grunted.

"So how come you know so much about all this stuff anyway?" He grumbled, reluctantly. Changing the subject seemed to be a good idea - there was no way in hell he'd be discussing his fears and weaknesses with _this_one anytime soon.

"I studied midwifery for awhile, in between my Alchemy practice. Thought it would be interesting."

"Why? You don't have kids."

"How do _you_know that?" Izumi raised an eyebrow and turned to face the Homunculus. Well, this was indefinitely more interesting than having shoes thrown at your head. "Who's to say they haven't grown up and left home?"

"No pictures, no old toys. No evidence, really" Envy replied, mindfully keeping a bored tone to his voice. "You don't mention anyone - don't have any stupid stories to scold those Elric bastards about. They're the only kids who've been around here aren't they?"

Izumi gaped a little. He was more intuitive than she'd guessed. Shrugging, she cocked her head to one side a little and half-smiled.

"Yes, I've only had them. Sometimes the village children come over if they need me, but Ed and Al are the only ones who've stayed."

"Since their mother kicked the bucket and all..."

"Since their mother _died_," The woman narrowed her eyes.

"And was it you who put the idea of resurrecting her into their heads?"

"_What?"_

"Yeah, I thought so," A nasty smirk twisted the corner of Envy's mouth as he gleefully pinched his nails into the nerve he'd just struck. "All that rot about Alchemy - they're bound to find out about human transmutation somehow. Maybe they read about it, hmm? In one of those big, leather books of yours. They might have asked someone - maybe that idiot Mason spilled about your naughty little secret. Or did they ask you yourself about the child you pretend never to have known."

"You _dare..."_

"Oh yes I _do_! I'm allowed to, you see," Envy licked his teeth, his eyes glimmering wickedly. "Since I'm one of them. I _know_what it feels like to be looked upon by the person who created you - I _know_those eyes."

_"Shut up."_

"Were you disgusted just because it wasn't human? Because it was ugly? Did it feel bad, chucking that poor, defenseless infant Homunculus back into the gate?"

_"SHUT UP!"_

"Oh I'm sorry, was this a touchy subject? I wouldn't know, I'm not human - Homunculi don't get all grouchy when we talk about our past _sins._Perhaps we don't recognize them as sins. Either that or _we__don't__care."_

Her hand lashed his face faster than he could react and the resounding slap echoed off the dull, grey walls of the quiet room. Though tears of pain spiked his eyes, Envy grinned through them - too amused by the storm brewing over Izumi's features to worry about a little carnal upset.

"Did it cry, Izumi?" He asked her, holding her livid glare in check, his hypnotic violet eyes acting somewhat like manacles. "Did it scream? It's painful to go through the gate sometimes - or so I hear."

"You're disgusting," Izumi spat. "You really _are_a monster."

"Oh don't act so surprised - you _knew_that already!" Envy leaned forward, gripping his ankles. "But remember, that kid Wrath is of the same stuff as me. You lump me in the same category as a Demon? He comes too. Now that's not very nice is it?" The Sin's smirk grew wider. "Calling your own son a monster..."

"He's not my son."

"But you wanted him to be... When you first saw him, you knew who he was. You know _what_he was - but that didn't stop you playing Mummy for a time. _As__though__it__would__all__work__out_."

Izumi said nothing. She could only stare in complete horrific fascination at how truly awful Envy could be. He'd come up with some testy remarks before or course, but this conversation was much worse than any lip thrown in her direction as of late. His words cut deeper then knives - though he himself did not have had a soul, he certainly knew how to make one bleed.

"Did it hurt when he said he'd kill you? Did it burn?" Envy moved closer still, pushing his leering mask further into her face. "Maybe he was just remembering the time when you killed _him._When you sent him into that black oblivion beyond the gate. He called your name, you know. He called out for yo-"

_"Stop."_

Izumi commanded. She stood up sharply, abruptly, making the mattress wobble.

That was enough. That was _it._

Though the spike of Envy's tongue had nearly pierced her heart - his words still tingling butterflies in her veins - she'd never _ever_taken kindly to this kind of crap before.

Never. Not from anyone.

All her life Izumi Curtis had exhumed a sense of purpose and superiority - hers was a presence that demanded respect, and received it - no questions asked.

If she made an error - which she was destined to, she had that human right - then it was to be accepted, forgiven and forgotten. Wrath, she knew, was part of her - and at first she had tried to accept him as that. But he was also an aberration, an oversight from her own recklessness. Too much emotion blended with too much power - Izumi had suffered a meltdown in the wake of her loss and _made__a__mistake._

One so monstrous, she almost could not forgive herself.

But she did. She had to. Life went on - she went on.

And when she found herself reunited with that which she thought dead - though she tried to reason with him that she'd sought to regain only with love and need - the resulting Homunculus could but react with the persona that described his name.

How ironic.

Yet she could not despair at Wrath's reaction. He may look and act like child, but he was not. He was not hers.

Izumi looked down at her patient, a strange, shadowy mantle encompassing her eyes. Envy had not moved, but he was looking her over - slightly shocked at her reaction. Surely she was supposed to get all upset and/or throw things. She should hit him again, shouldn't she? Wasn't that what humans did when they were upset?

_Scream or something, damn you!_

The woman allowed herself a small, triumphant inner smile. When boiled down to the basics - past the _mise_ _en__place_ to the very raw ingredients - Envy really hadn't much left to him but a whole lot of frustration, anger and pain. Though he seemed mentally about the same age, this was where he differed from the Elric's.

Edward and Alphonse had seen many terrible things in their short lives and had suffered from their follies more than any person surely could. Yet they struggled on - just as Izumi had - clinging to the hope that something would make it right. They believed that, in the end, they would receive the equivalent trade they deserved.

Envy may have hope and aspirations as well, but Izumi guessed that he hadn't realized exactly what they were. He did what he was told. He killed _whom_he was told. And he did it because somehow it lightened the load from his own pain.

And he felt pain - though she did not know what it was caused by - she could see it, plain as day, in his eyes. Perhaps, before, when he could change his form he could hide it a little by becoming someone else. But when he was made to stay put - to stay as close to himself as he dared - the truth shone brighter than any colourful insult he dared catapult at her.

He was a Homunculus, a creature that by all intents and purposes wasn't _real_.

Edward had told her of Lust's ambition to become human after they'd spoken in the 5th Laboratory - so Izumi could only assume that the rest strived to achieve the same goal. Yet they seemed to feel that they had to justify their existence by acting outrageously and horrifically beforehand. The creatures that emerged from the gate may be powerful and strong, but they understood little about those who created them. Strange, once again that beings made from humans couldn't figure humans out.

And Envy... Well, he was simply a child throwing stones at something he didn't understand because that's all he knew to do. Perhaps it was true that the Philosopher's stone only created madness and destruction.

Izumi gave a slight huff and straightened her shirt absently.

"Do you know why Alchemists attempt Human Transmutation?" She asked, steeling her gaze directly into his eyes. He looked away, then back again - a discontented snarl creasing his face.

"Because they're stupid! They like to toy with things they don't understand! They try body alchemy to...to-"

"To try and bring back someone they loved and lost." Izumi shook her head. "You don't get it, do you? You think we create Homunculi out of cruelty? Out of curiosity - just because we want to see what an artificial human is really like? Of course not! We try to use Human Transmutations to get back something we held dear to us. We don't realize the consequences because the consequences are never broadcast. The only thing keeping us from discovering the truth is a set of laws that forbid any Alchemist to attempt human resurrection - but it's human nature to ignore rules and laws. They're only made to be broken, or so it's said." The woman kept her eyes as hard and emotionless as she could, though something inside her threatened to melt as Envy's vicious expression faltered.

He didn't know. Or he didn't _want_to know.

Just as she'd guessed.

"You're right to blame me for not telling the Elric's. Perhaps it's my fault that Sloth was born. But grief will drive a human to the limits of their sanity. Those boys would never have listened - just as I never did. Regulations become nothing in the face of ultimate loss. Had I the knowledge that I do now, I would have never tried to bring back my child."

"Nuh-no...No!" The Sin struggled wretchedly to retain his position in the debate. "No... you humans just... You just... You're idiots - look at Liore, look at how the military are treating the Ishbalites," He waved his hand vaguely at the window - presumably in the direction of the settlements. "Look at how you fight amongst yourselves - and you have the nerve to think you're better than us?"

"I never said that," Izumi replied "It's true we humans are governed by our feelings and tend to make errors with frantic judgment. But how different are we from the Homunculi? Why is it _you_ act as you do? Because you're told to? You obey orders? Or because you want to... Either way, whether you're following commands like soldier or doing something because you take pleasure in doing it, you're acting just like a human would."

She turned and walked toward the door. Envy hadn't moved - he sat still, obviously tilling this new information over in his mind.

"Yeah, but I _kill_ humans.."

"That's a stupid answer in itself!" The woman rested her hand on the doorknob. "What do you suppose people do in wars - throw bananas at each other? And you Homunculi don't kill each other unless it's absolutely necessary - right? How is that so different from us?"

Envy said nothing. Izumi sighed.

"The last time I saw Wrath he accused myself and the general Alchemic populous of being pathetic idiots who curiously attempt Body Alchemy with the aspiration to resurrect someone we have lost. Now at that moment I believed him. I thought myself truly despicable and a deserving candidate for a death sentence. I called him my sin. But I was only partly right. I had violated the Laws of Alchemy and attempted a forbidden practice - but I had not intentionally meant to summon a Homunculus. What I wanted was my son's life back. It was taken from him unjustly and without reason. If the world - not just the Alchemical world, but this entire existence - revolves around the concept of equivalent trade, then where was his? What did he get in return for dying?"

Izumi drew her gaze away from the Homunculus and studied the grain of the wooden door.

"I should be punished for breaking the law - this is a fact. But by the humans who set the restrictions, not by you. You've been born again with your own life, why waste it on unnecessary revenge? I do not understand how can you be so vicious and hateful when your creator only harbored feelings of the opposite?"

"We have no soul," Envy replied quietly - though his anger still gleamed like a razor on the edge of his voice.

"You have a body. You have a voice. You have a psyche." Izumi looked back at him. "And what _is_a soul anyway? Something that simply makes us mortal? A thing that renders our body to need fuel, to feel pain, to crave pleasure? Tell me, why would you want that with your powerful form and your limitless life?"

"You left us alone... You sent Wrath back into the gate like you didn't want him."

Envy ignored the question and stared at his hands. He wasn't the one who desired a human body so he couldn't really answer.

He took pleasure in issuing pain and he enjoyed making people suffer. But he'd always felt he had good reason to do so. If humans were cruel enough to create homunculi, then surely they deserved to suffer at the product of their experimentation. Yet...if it was true...what this woman was saying... Did that mean he was running around, dishing out death for no purpose whatsoever?

_Yeah..._ _So?_ _Homunculi__are__better__than__humans__-__they__should__own__the__earth!_

But without their creators, the artificial humans would not exist. They, themselves did not breed - they could not. What did that make the humans then? Some variety of strange, weak mortal Gods?

Envy lowered his head further into his chest. This was too confusing - too much. If he had not been in his current predicament, he was sure he'd be the same deadly killer - causing humans to expire left right and centre as he pleased. What he wanted was revenge. Revenge against _that__man_and revenge against stupid humans in general. Only now the thought of merciless slaughter churned in his brain like nausea in his stomach. He'd started this verbal battle in order to win - to get one up on the irritating woman who insisted on babying him. He had hurt and offended in the hope to reassure himself that he was still the cruel being he'd thought he was.

Yet now he felt even worse than before. Over the past months he'd slowly come to realize that somewhere along the line he'd grown a conscience of sorts and though he bitterly fought against it, the idea of killing and pain had become foreign and... sickening.

Izumi watched carefully as the Sin seemed to deflate a little, leaning sideways and curling up on his side with his back to her. She stood silent for awhile, juggling with the notion of replying to his last comment or just leaving the room, calling it quits when he spoke again.

"Hey you," He grumbled, his voice a little muffled by the pillow.

"Mmm?"

"Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out."

Izumi rolled her eyes.

_Well__I__guess__that's__a__'You__win,__fuck__off._She thought, grimly, and proceeded to leave the room.

Envy let out a breath as the door closed, though he couldn't shake the suffocating feeling that the world was closing in on him. He squeezed up tighter into a ball, then - even though it was only early afternoon - reached behind him and dragged a corner of his blanket over his shoulders. It may be that he performed this comforting action without realizing it, but at this point Envy felt miserable enough not to care.

He'd changed. He dearly wished it were otherwise, but he had. And he was scared out of his wits - his only saving thought was that he wouldn't let these bastards find out about it.

It was dark by the time he awoke and though a tray with a single sandwich and a glass of juice had been left on the bedside table, no one else had bothered him during his nap. He sat up and glared at the food, but his irritation quickly vanished as his stomach rumbled - loudly. With a slight degree of caution, he picked up the neatly cut sandwich half and waved it under his nose.

It was stuffed with meat of some kind, cut in thick slices along with a jammy sauce that tasted both sweet and sour and tingled on his tongue when he tested it. Pretty plain, but not completely inedible. Envy shrugged as he bit off a corner. He still didn't really enjoy eating very much - he was annoyed by the fact his body had started to require tangible things in order to keep it functioning - but it couldn't be helped. The sick feeling he experienced from an empty tummy was almost as bad as the one that used to make him puke in the mornings for a time. He took another bite - slightly larger this time as his appetite surpassed his pride - and reached for the orange drink.

This he was quite fond of. The juice itself was fresh and more often than not quite tart, but there was an underlying sweet aftertaste that Envy enjoyed and he sipped the beverage slowly - letting the fructose from the nectar settle on his tongue. The moon was high and full and it lit the small room with an eerie pale glow that the Homunculus preferred much more than the harsh fluorescent beams of Izumi's kitchen or the blazing orange light bulbs in the bedrooms. He sat back on the bed, for a moment, musing when a shadow spiked the unbroken light that streamed through the window.

Envy swiveled to face the sill and nearly chuckled with relief when he saw the familiar violet eyes of Lust staring back at him through the glass. He walked over the to window and opened it - leaning out a little to greet her.

"Well, it took you long enough!"

"Hello, Envy," Lust smiled a little. "How are you?"

"Um..." The Shape shifter frowned. "I've been better, but I guess I'm alright."

"That's good.." Lust nodded, revealing nothing in her expression save relief. "I was worried about you."

"Thanks...I think..." Envy crinkled his nose in bewilderment. Why was she just...sitting there? Perching on the edge of the window conversing politely as though it were a completely normal thing to do. Wasn't she supposed to be rescuing him?

Lust shifted and sat back on the ledge a little, taking in the sight of her brother with warm eyes. She'd feared he might have become even worse in her absence, but he looked much healthier than the last time she'd seen him. Though he was pale as always, his face was a little flushed from the warm spring night and tabby-cat pillow-marks streaked down one side of his face. His hair was caught up in a messy knot at the back of his head and she remembered that recently he preferred to keep it off his neck.

Noticing the T-shirt, Lust let out the bated breath she'd been holding the entire journey to Dublith. If he wasn't practically semi-naked in his usual attire, then clearly his shape must have changed enough for him to feel vulnerable in it. Which in turn, meant the child must still safe within him. She stared at his middle in fascination - though nothing showed through the thick material of the oversized black garment.

"Um, Lust? Hey..." Envy spoke again, waving his hand in front of her face. Her gaze snapped up and a slightly guilty expression crossed over her features.

"Yes?"

"Are we gonna go now or what?"

"Oh," Lust bit her lip. "About that... Envy, we can't take you with us."

"What?" The Shape shifter moved back a little in surprise. "Why not? I thought that was the plan?"

"It _was,"_She sighed, twiddling her gloved fingers, distractedly. "But things have changed-"

_"What_things," Envy interrupted, the friendliness leaving his face. For some reason he'd anticipated a negative reaction when it came to returning to Dante. He'd guessed that he was paranoid because his luck had been relatively awful as of late. Yet to hear the rejection out loud caused an icy, hollow lump to form in his stomach - with rivulets of chills slowly bleeding up his spine. He shivered unintentionally.

"Dante has switched our target from the Elric's to that Ishbal man." Lust explained, a note of regret weighing on her voice. "Because of your condition she feels that Edward and Alphonse's interest in the stone will wane as they dally looking after you. Scar, meanwhile has already traveled past the old ruins to the North and is heading toward the New Countries. If he crosses the borders it will be even harder for us to keep and eye on him - that and the entire plot involving the Military and Ishbal will have to be put on hold."

"Just make that idiot Elric go there!" Envy hissed. "He can do what we planned! It's that easy!

"But he'd only go because of Scar."

"So get someone to pretend to _be_Scar!" The Shape shifter felt his anger surge over his initial shock. He clenched his fists at his sides. "Or go find that Rose woman. _She's_bound to lure them there - being Miss Elric-wet-dream and all..."

"Rose is...unavailable at the moment," Lust explained awkwardly. This conversation was making her nervous. She wasn't even supposed to _be_anywhere near her brother - let alone inform him of their plans. Dante had wanted Envy to be completely isolated. The less he knew, the better. He had a tendency to blab when he thought he was being cocky, and his judgment certainly wasn't the most reliable - even at the best of times. "And how could we possibly get someone to imitate Scar? He wouldn't be very realistic if we couldn't simulate that powerful arm. The only person who could pull off such a play would be...uh..."

"Me," Envy pursed his lips. "So...You're leaving me behind then. With these arseholes."

"I'm sorry," She looked away, absently flicking her hair over her shoulder. "But you can't really say it hasn't done you any good. You look so much better."

"But I'm _not_better, Lust!" His tone had taken on a tinge of panicked anxiety. She didn't like the pleading look that had crept into his eyes. "I'm not sick anymore, but I'm something else! I've changed! This thing- " He jabbed his index fingers at his midsection. "-has done something to me. It's fucked about with me somehow - as if it's crafted my own body to suit itself. _I__don't__like__it!"_

"Envy, you knew from the time you were losing the stones that the baby was causing changes in you. There isn't much _we_ can do. In fact, I'm sure the female Alchemist knows more about children than even Dante does."

"You could kill it. You could get rid of it for me."

"And what, possibly lose you too? You know Dante wouldn't allow that. You're too important."

_That__and__I__couldn't__do__it,_Lust added, to herself.

"But what if I die because of it, huh?" Envy growled. "Or what if it's altered my body so much that I can't use my powers even when it's gone?"

"Dante said it's a risk we'll have to take." Lust moved forward and slung her legs over the windowsill so she was half-sitting in the room. "She wants you to bear this child, Envy. She believes that, if reared correctly, it will become quite a formidable tool. As she said before, it's a descendant of Hohenheim _born_from a Homunculus - certainly not an occurrence she's ever stumbled across before! She has no intention of putting you in danger and right now she's decided that you're safest in the custody of the Elric's."

"'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer', eh? What stupid bastard said that?" The Shape shifter grunted and crossed his arms huffily over his chest. He really didn't like that Lust had bought up _That__Man's_name - and rage bubbled up once again, tickling his nerves.

Lust gave another sigh and stood up, walking over to her brother. Before either of them realized it, the taller Homunculus had gently wrapped her arms about Envy's shoulders and pulled him close, burying her face in his hair. Envy flinched in surprise.

This was...unusual.

Apart from the odd grapple from Gluttony, Lust - like the other Homunculi - rarely let herself be touched. The Sins might occasionally refer to each other as siblings, but they lacked the caring element that humans tended to exude. This was natural, of course, as it wasn't part of the Homunculi nature to be loving - most of them had forgotten that feeling long ago. But Lust was much younger than Envy - she probably felt the memories of her flesh much stronger than he did.

Slowly, more to please _her_ than himself, Envy let his arms fall down to his sides and leaned forward against her collarbone. He wasn't going to return the hug - that would be pushing it. But just relaxing into Lust's embrace seemed to comfort him a little - taking the burn off the fact the very people he trusted (well, trusted to a degree) were about to abandon him.

Again.

"You're...warm," Lust murmured through the thicket of his brackish crown. There was a faint scent of sweat about his hair - not repulsive, just sort of heady. The aromas of clean linen, medicine and orange also drifted about his skin and she was surprised to find that he did indeed radiate a little heat - just as a human would do.

And a Homunculus wouldn't

_How interesting._

His shoulders felt as bony as they looked and his arms had almost entirely lost the chiseled muscle tone his form had once sported - leaving his figure between the stages of androgynous slender and schoolboy gangly. He looked quite strange with his skinny, white limbs poking out beneath the voluminous shirt - his small, pointed face peeking out from under a cloud of greenish-black hair.

Though his chosen form was quite a small youthful guise to start with, Lust couldn't help but feel an overwhelming desire to protect her older brother. His usual air of self-sufficiency and confidence had evaporated, leaving in its wake only a thin, ivory sliver of the character - riddled with confusion and doubt. She could sense his fear, he wasn't very good at hiding it - not from her - and she sighed sadly as she pulled away from him, turning to leave.

"I wish I could help you. I wish it were _me_instead of you - you know that. But we had no idea anything like this could happen, did we? It's almost impossible!"

Envy looked up sharply, as a sudden wave of _de__ja__vu_breezed over his thoughts.

_Impossible..._

Lust smiled again, mistaking the Shape shifter's startled look for anxiety.

"You mustn't stress yourself. It seems these humans have accepted their task of providing for you - even if it's for longer than they expected. All in all, how long is another six or so months to someone who's seen centuries pass? A year from now, you'll probably have forgotten this has even happened."

"Except that there'll be a sniveling little shit running around to remind me," Envy narrowed his eyes. "Don't act so chiding, Lust. If you're not going to help me then fuck off.

He wrenched his eyes away from her and stalked over to the bed, plopping down on the mattress with an aggravated huff. Lust watched him - biting her lip. But when he refused to look at her again, she nodded to herself and sighed. She shouldn't have come - shouldn't have said anything.

"Goodbye, Envy." She whispered, stealing back out of the window and into the night.

Envy gave an irritated shudder and kicked the sheets of his bed about listlessly. Well that was it, he was now left alone with those he hated and there was very little he could do about it. Weighing up his options proved to be both depressing and upsetting.

To run would be basically be drafting, proofreading and signing his own death sentence - not only was he completely ignorant of what was happening to his body, he'd be absolutely helpless if he was caught. He had little physical strength left - definitely not enough to fight - and though his rage fuelled his fists most of the time, it would not save him.

And if he killed the Elrics and their Sensei? Envy closed his eyes - Dante would _not_be pleased.

If that wasn't the understatement of the century.

But even though the shape shifter sulked at being left behind, he couldn't stop the comment Lust had made from turning about in his head. Something about it seemed to link to the conversation he'd had with the Curtis woman earlier.

Something that dropped coldly in the pit of his stomach when he realized that he shared the same flaw as the despised Alchemists.

"_You__had__no__idea__it__was__going__to__happen."_Was pretty much the same as saying: _"I__didn't__mean__to__summon__a__Homunculus."_

Though the rules were not set in stone as were the Laws of Alchemy, it was a fact that Envy had trespassed on Human turf. Homunculi could not reproduce, so why would they try? There was no reason for them to indulge - yet Envy had done so, even if it was simply to aggravate his enemy. But, just like said persons, he too did not understand how fickle the Gate could be - that it could possibly produce _one_Homunculi with a body that could conceive.

It didn't really make sense, but then neither did the idea of artificial humans being created from the remains of the dead. And as the woman had mentioned, Homunculi were usually created by a human who has been driven temporarily insane by need and grief. So did that mean he'd created _this_child while blinded by his own evil insecurity?

Envy lay on his back and tentatively dusted his fingers over his abdomen. Would the baby would hate him, then, as he hated _his_ creator? Would he be furious when he eventually found out that his father had accidentally bought him into life? That he was the unfortunate product of a joke?

The Sin jerked his hand away from his body disgustedly. Yeah, and so _what_if the kid hated him? At least then he'd be taking after his parent in one form or another. Why did he care for this unborn creature anyway? Why did he even let it bother him?

Envy grunted and shoved his face into the pillow.

_Stupid__thing,_He thought, but without much conviction.

The remaining food and drink lay untouched on the bedside table, the crusts of the sandwich slowly hardening and turning stale with prolonged exposure to the night air.

Envy had ignored them, his appetite having completely vanished after Lust's visit.

His stomach hurt, as did his head and if he were to become hungry sometime in his restless slumber, he had plenty of heavy worries to chew over the night through.

_Mise_ _en__place__preparation__of__ingredients._


	7. Morning Glory

_This chapters tardiness was brought to you by the letters 'Bleach' and 'Camping at my friends place away from my computer' and the number 'Absolut Vanilla._

**Dark Humor**

_Part 7: Morning Glory._

...And Envy shot up from the bed as though he'd been burned.

Sunlight streamed through the window of the small room, pelting the white sheets of the small, single cot with uneven stripes of pale gold. Envy blinked a few times, confused. Hadn't he been on a larger bed just moments ago? Where was that Elric bastard? What was about to happen? Evaluating the scene quickly, the Sin came to the slightly disappointing conclusion that he had woken up.

_Thank God for that...I think..._

Edward, blessedly, was nowhere in sight. Envy was clothed and still – he felt about his middle and sighed – knocked up, to his dismay. At least the aches and pains of the previous night had dissipated – sleep seemed to cure one thing or another.

Someone was cooking breakfast downstairs – the scent of hot food assaulted his nostrils. His stomach rumbled in greedy anticipation. Envy rolled his eyes and made to get out of bed when a strange, damp sensation stopped him.

What was that... in the bed?

_Wet...sticky..._

_Sticky!_

A brief examination with his finger proved that Envy really _had_been enjoying his dream. So much in fact he'd enjoyed it all over his sheets. Ears reddening as the realization blistered heat under his skin, the Sin hesitated – trying to decide upon some sort of evasive action.

Of course, this was just the moment Edward chose to stick his head around the door.

"Hey, you coming down? Izumi's making breakfast..."

In one swift, guilty movement Envy had frantically bundled the blankets into a ball in his lap and froze, staring wide-eyed and panting at the Alchemist.

"Wha?"

"Breakfast... You know, the food you eat at the beginning of the day? What's up with _you_ this morning."

"Fuck off!"

"Hey, I was only ask-"

"_Fuck __off!"_

Edward yelped as a pillow bounced off his head. Still clutching the accumulated bedding close to his body, Envy reached behind him for something else to throw.

"Fine! Fine! Whatever, do what you want!"

Edward stormed out of the doorway – leaving the flustered, irritated Homunculus alone in the room, a second pillow ready to be thrown in his hand. Envy let out a breath as the door slammed closed and leapt off the mattress - wrenching back the covers to take a good look at his sheets. He groaned. The damage was pretty brutal – all of it was in need of a good wash. Or two.

The Sin stripped the stained manchester off the bed quickly and rolled it together into a ball. A quick inspection of himself forced him to also remove his shorts, but thankfully his loincloth had managed to dodge most the mess. He pulled on a new T-shirt – just in case – and, licking his palm to wipe a few dried splotches from the side of his thigh, risked a quick glance in the mirror.

_Not too bad... With the length of this shirt I doubt they'd notice I'm not wearing my shorts._

Envy shook his head tiredly, and juggled the bedding about until he was sure he had a firm grasp on it all before he slowly padded over to the door.

It was now or never. If he didn't want to be completely mortified for the millionth time, he had to make this as fast as humanly possible.

Better yet, homunculusly possible.

Envy took a deep breath, opened the door _and__ran__for__it._

"Did you tell Envy to get up."

"Uh huh."

"Is he up then?"

"Uh huh"

"Is he coming _down_?"

"Dunno."

Izumi sighed and ladled another measure of pancake batter onto the griddle pan.

"Well I'm not going to make another lot if we don't know what he's doing."

Edward shrugged.

"What he's _doing _is packing another tantrum. Whether he's going to make an appearance at breakfast is another question entirely."

"For God's sake, Ed," Izumi dug around the sides of the fritter with a metal spatula. "What did you say to him _this_time?"

"Uh...'Breakfast is ready', I think – though I have no idea how he could find that offensive."

"Well, you know _him,"_The woman shook the pan a little and tossed the pancake into the air. "He just –"

She was interrupted by a flurry of black, green and white as it streaked headlong through the kitchen and into the laundry – slamming the door shut behind it. The small audience settled about the wooden table exchanged mutual confused glances.

Izumi blinked.

The pancake missed the pan altogether and splattered onto the floor.

"Um...Envy?" Izumi called tentatively toward the closed room. "The kitchens in here..."

"Fuck off." Came the reply.

The woman raised an eyebrow and walked over to the laundry – gripping the spatula like a truncheon.

"Envy?"

"Fuck off!"

Edward rolled his eyes and stuffed another forkful of pancake into his mouth.

"Better make sure he's not eating the soap – he'd need to wash his mouth out with that language."

Izumi pushed the door open and was greeted by a decidedly flustered-looking Homunculus who was leaning against the lid of the washing machine holding it shut as if his life depended on it and reaching for the 'on' button. He glared at her through widened, panic-riddled eyes. The woman almost laughed out loud when she realized what was going on – she'd washed his bedding only yesterday.

"Envy-"

"_Fuck __off!"_

"-yes I'm glad to see your vocabulary is functioning this morning. One scoop of that powder..." She pointed to the blue box on the shelf above the washing machine. "..make sure it's on 'normal wash' and it should be done in about forty minutes. Would you like some pancakes?"

"Fuck off?"

"That's good, I was just about to make some more. One or two?"

"Fuc-"

"Two, excellent! Your appetite must have returned. Finish what you're doing there and have a shower. You smell worse than you look. You'll have time, I have to make another batch of batter as the last one fell on the floor. There's clean towels in the bathroom – oh, and take these..."

She chucked a pair of Edwards blue shorts at him – using most of her self-control to keep from breaking into a grin. He caught them and, eyeing her warily, stalked past her, heading out of the kitchen and down the hall, shaking his head in disbelief as he did so.

Didn't humans understand English or something?

It was only once he'd left the room that Izumi allowed herself a small chuckle. Ed grinned evilly.

"He wet the bed?"

"No," The woman shot her former student a stern look, though it was ruined by her failing attempt to stifle her wobbling smile. "He did _not,_Edward."

"What was that all about then, Sensei?" Alphonse looked up from his book, cocking his helmet, quizzically.

"Ah," Izumi replied, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye as she started pouring some flour into a mixing bowl. "You'll find out when you're older."

Envy stepped out of the shower and briskly scrubbed a towel over his skin – trying hard not to catch a glimpse of his altered body in the mirror. He'd come to the conclusion that if he didn't look good in a two-piece, he didn't look good in anything – and the less he wanted to look at _himself. _He threw on his clothes, pulling down the elastic waistband of Edward's shorts to a more comfortable position and blotted his long hair as dry as he possibly could before raking a comb he found on the bathroom vanity through it.

As he gathered his mane into a thin tail – fiddling about with the tie to secure it – he noticed something else on the edge of the vanity's blue formica surface. It was a book - a small, thin paperback book with a tatty, dog-eared cover and broken spine. Curiously, Envy picked it up to inspect it and found that it wasn't just any book.

It was a book on maternity.

Envy grinned a sunrise. Knowledge was in his hands! Finally he'd be able to find out at least a _little_bit about what his stupid body was doing. And this way he wouldn't have to resort to asking. Hell, like he was going to admit he was worried! But upon flipping through the pages, the Sin found that the book was mostly set up like a dictionary – with terms and explanations listed in alphabetical order. He huffed impatiently – what good would a dictionary do for someone who didn't even know what was happening to him? – but stopped at the 'L' section when he saw the term 'Libido'.

Peering closer at the page, he flexed the spine a little and read:

Libido: A woman's sex drive can increase or decrease during pregnancy. Many women find themselves disinterested in sex due to fatigue and body changes while other find that the hormonal imbalances cause them to want sex more than they did before they became pregnant.

_Oh __yeah,_Envy thought icily. _And`__what __about __men __then?_

His seething glower quickly morphed into a prickling blush when he realized the incredible stupidity behind his words.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Izumi had just poured the first drop of batter into the pan when the back door shuddered with the pounding of several small fists.

_"Sensei! Sensei! It broke!"_

_"Sensei, we can't find James, can you help us?"_

_"Sensei, my finger's stuck!"_

_"Up his nose!"_

There was a chorus of giggles from outside. The woman rested her spatula on the side of the pan and sighed.

"Damn kids." She rolled her eyes with a knowing smile. "Ed, Al keep an eye on Envy's breakfast will you? This usually takes a little while."

And with that she draped her apron over the handle of the oven and marched out the kitchen to her waiting audience.

"Sure," Ed yawned, linking his hands behind his head – leaning back in his chair. "I doubt he'll notice if they're a little black..."

"Nii-san!" The armor scolded, looking up sharply from his book. "That's not fair!"

"With the filth that comes out of his mouth," Edward smirked. "He's not gonna taste a little charcoal..."

"No, I'll just charcoal _you_in return, O'Chibi," Envy spat as he entered the room. Before Edward could react, the Sin had grabbed his pigtail and wrenched him backwards. Already tempting gravity by leaning so far over, Ed tumbled arse over heels onto the kitchen floor and sat, sprawled – gripping the back of his head.

"That _hurt,_you stupid bastard!" He growled and snatched his own book from the tabletop - hurling it unsuccessfully at the Sin. It crashed against the door of the larder a good three feet away from Envy's head. The target snickered.

"Nice one, but what did the cupboard ever do to you?"

"Shut up!"

"You needn't get jealous just 'cause I'm a better throw, O'Chibi..."

"Who're you calling a shorty, _fatty?"_

"Fuck you, bean bandit!"

"What are you gonna do, pudge – _wet __the __bed?"_

_"I did not!"_

"Envy," Al's voice ducked calmly under the fray of insults. "You'd better watch your breakfast or it'll burn."

Taken rather by surprise at the remark, Envy looked up at the metal boy.

"What?"

Alphonse pointed at the stove.

"You should flip it now."

Still a trite confused, Envy turned his attention from the fuming alchemist to the battered, white enameled range top and padded over to investigate. There was one of those pancake things in the pan – he'd had them here before, so he generally knew what they were supposed to look like. But this one seemed to be in one of the many preparation stages of the dish. He stared at it a moment as the surface began to bubble slowly, then cast a helpless look at Al.

"Flip?"

"Yeah, loosen the sides with that flat thing..." The huge gauntlet indicated to the spatula on the countertop. "Then just toss it into the air and catch it with the pan. So it'll cook the other side."

Envy's brow crumpled with indecision. He didn't want to act all _domesticated_in front of the Elric's, but nor did he want to eat anything burnt – his stomach tended to be picky enough as it was. And he liked the pancake-things. There was syrup. Syrup was good.

Timidly, he scraped about the sides of the round fritter then took the pan's handle in both hands and jerked upwards. The pancake turned a lazy somersault in mid air then landed neatly back on the non-stick surface – cooked side up.

"Like that?"

"Mmhmm! Just right. Let it be for a minute or two and it should be good to eat." Al chuckled lightly to himself. It was nice to see an expression other than loathing or contempt on the Sin's face. Right now, though Envy wasn't _smiling_per say, his entire countenance in general had lightened a little and had become a tad curious if anything. Reaching for the plate that was stationed by the stove, Envy tipped the pancake out onto it and walked over to the table – settling down on a chair at the far end away from both the brothers. He poured a generous amount of syrup on the cake then started hacking into it with his fingers.

"There _are_ knives and forks, you know," Edward stated, coldly, pretending to be stuck in his book. "If you'd care to engage in a little table etiquette."

"Oh I wouldn't give _me _a knife," Envy sneered, licking the dribbling syrup from his fingers. "It'd only end up in your eye."

Edward sighed and shook his head.

"We can't really expect much from you, can we?"

"You can expect me to hate your guts."

"You seem to be hating them on your own though, don't you..." Edward cocked an eyebrow in the Sin's direction. "It's not like we've seen any of your friends around, recently..."

Envy ignored him and continued dissecting his pancake.

"They were supposed to come and pick you up when you recovered. Since you certainly don't appear to be sick anymore, where are they?" Ed persisted, grinning a little.

"Probably off killing people while you sit here on your ass doing nothing," Envy countered in a bored tone. He kept his gaze on his plate though – just so Edward didn't get a glimpse of the slightly rejected look in his eyes. Though it had been almost a week since Lust had turned up on the windowsill, he still hadn't quite shaken the hollow feeling of self-pity. He hated to admit it, but he detested being left behind – even if it was just in Dante's mansion. Edward narrowed his eyes as he looked the Sin over again.

"Actually," He rallied. "The murder rate has gone down in Central. In fact, some of the suburban police departments have had to lay off soldiers because there just isn't enough work at the moment. Now isn't that odd? The minute _you're_out of the picture..."

"_So _sorry to put you out!"

"Where are they?" Edward turned so he was facing Envy – leaning slightly over the table. "If they were so concerned about you before why haven't they come to collect you? They can't possibly be leaving you here – I _am _an enemy to you guys aren't I?"

"Like I'd tell you anything, O'Chibi..." Envy shot the blond a scathing look. "_They're_ my comrades. _You're_a shithead."

"Envy, what are the Homuculis' plans? Why do you guys want the Philosophers Stones?"

The Sin gaped at Edward incredulously.

"Are you saying that to be funny? What the hell possessed you to think I'd tell _you _such a thing."

"Because you _owe _me!"

"The only thing _I _owe _you _is a kick in the head, _midget! _And that's _long _overdue!"

"I doubt you could get your legs that high anymore!"

A lightening sliver of Envy's dream flashed though his mind and before the Sin knew it, a slight blush had tinted his cold cheeks.

_Oh they can go higher than you think, mate!_

Luckily, Edward didn't seem to notice.

"Actually, I'll bet you don't know, do you?" Ed grinned. "You have _no_idea what the others are doing right now."

"You _wish!_" Envy growled, gripping the syrup bottle in his fist. "and don't think I don't know what you're doing! Mind games aren't gonna get you anywhere..."

"I guess... S'pecially when it takes _two_minds to play a game, and my opposition seems to be _lacking_..."

With a snarl, the Sin made to hurl the bottle of sweet, molten sugar at his adversary but found himself jerked backward into his seat – an iron manacle of a hand closing around his wrist.

"I know this kitchen may not be clean to industry specifications," Izumi rumbled – her expression as dark and menacing as her voice. "But giving it a coat of maple syrup isn't going to improve it much."

Envy looked up into the dark, glittering eyes of Mrs. Curtis and gulped.

"I think you two have spoken enough this morning," She continued, not yet releasing her hold on the frozen homunculus. "Edward, there's work to be done in the shop out front – if you and Al would care to give Mason a hand. Envy, your sheets are done now – go hang them out. And if I find you've damaged my manchester in any way, shape or form, I will personally-" The woman leaned in close, hissing in his ear so only he could hear her. "-make sure that everyone knows _why_you were so eager to hide them!"

Envy had been subject to many threats before. Most involved his life, some his neck, some his _manhood_even... But his pride? The Sin scowled as he meekly slid out of his seat and trudged into the laundry - rubbing his wrist where Izumi's fingers had pinched into the skin. He dug the heavy, wet sheets out of the washing machines tub, dumped them into a plastic basket and, balancing this on his hip, made his way out the back door – his gaze never falling back on Edward. In turn the blond watched him and gawped.

"How the hell did you get him to do that?" Edward blinked, his mouth hanging open.

Izumi fired him a ball-breaking glare over her shoulder.

"Same way I'm going to get _you_to paint the front of the shop!"

"Aw, but we just got back from Central! Can't we take a break?"

"You can.." Izumi's mouth split into a malevolent grin. "If you want everyone to know what used to happen when I mentioned _Moo-moo_."

It seemed that somewhere on Edward's person a plug had been pulled as his colour drained so quickly. Only _slightly _faster than the speed of a developing universe, he rose from his seat and maneuvered his body stiffly over to the door of the hall.

"Nii-san?" Al queried, anxiously.

"Nnngfffs," Came the stunted reply from the corridor. If translated carefully, it could have been some sort of confirmative grunt – yet something about it seemed to exude a fear of certain farmland animals. Al got up from the table, gave Izumi a polite bow – for what reason he wasn't sure, he just seemed to think it was justified – and trotted after his brother.

Izumi chuckled to herself as she cleared the breakfast plates. It was good to have the boys back. Especially when you had a shop front to paint and a handful of bribes up your sleeve.

* * *

><p>Envy scrutinized the washing machines capabilities as he spread the last of his sheets across the thin wire of the clothesline – securing the damp edges with a wooden peg.<p>

No stains...No marks...

_Whew!_

That _one _drama gone for the day at least.

His body hunched with a dejected sigh as he smoothed the wet fabric over with his palm; feeling that, for some reason, his life had turned into one big comedy show and that some cruel Godlike sadist was writing the scripts simply to experiment in humiliating the homunculus in as many different ways as possible.

One could only hope that these last few _painfully_embarrassing months weren't simply material for the pilot.

But, dark humor aside, the adult themed material that had somehow infiltrated the corners of his mind was slightly more disturbing. Envy shuddered as he recalled the events of his dream with far too strict a detail to be healthy.

_Edward...__Why _that _stupid __bastard__ – __of __all __people? __I'd __have __Gluttony __over __Edward!_

The Sin had forgotten how awful and vile his creative brain could be, but he was reminded all too quickly as his imagination piggy-backed on his new found, raging libido and the resulting image nearly caused him to lose his breakfast all over the back lawn. He squeezed his eyes shut in pained horror.

_Perhaps not Gluttony then..._

But why? Why, why, _why _Edward Elric? Why that short, stupid, brainless Alchemist? He wasn't really wet-dream material – and he was even worse in bed!

Well, _pretty _bad, anyway. Envy cocked his head thoughtfully.

Average at the very least.

_Except when he did that thing with his tongue and then..._

Once again, Envy's raging hormones sped into his groin and the Homunculus felt his knees wobble as an onslaught of ticklish fluttering attacked his lower body. He groaned - God, now he only had to _think_of the Elric bastard and he almost went off!

The humiliation itself was enough to make him want to hang himself.

But, to fantasize about Edward... To imagine making love to someone _with __that __face..._

Envy rubbed his forehead tiredly as pictures of what his human body may have looked like - had he never been _redesigned_by his father - flickered about as ghostly portraits in his mind. The details were unclear, of course - like the tongue of a candle flame mellowed behind the thick, tinted glass of a lantern – but they all held the same blond hair, the same gold eyes and that serious, determined expression.

It had been centuries since Envy had brought up the image of Hohemheim's face willingly, but the moment he'd crossed paths with Edward Elric he was forced to look at it once more. That duplicate visage, that clone.

That _better _model.

The Shape shifter dug his fingers into the flesh of his forearm and grit his teeth. He wasn't going to start brooding again – he'd done enough of that in the past week to almost add up to the amount he'd done in three lifetimes. So he hated the idiot Alchemist and his stupid bastard of a father who considered responsibility as nothing more than a point of view – so what? He'd enough to worry about now, he hadn't time to waste mulling over their useless carcasses.

Wait…No time to spend thinking about them?

Envy perked up a little. Well, that was something. He hadn't realized it, but all the thoughts and curses that sat decomposing in his mind about his treacherous father had been shoved aside in favor of worries about himself and his situation. Interesting…Had Hohenheim really become so unimportant that his strange new temperament had just cast aside his loathing so flippantly?

And was that fact so bad?

Envy let out a breath and straightened – realizing he'd doubled-over and was holding on to the stem of the washing line for support. It must be that with all these new concerning happenings, the grudges he'd been chewing over for years had started to become bland in taste. His fury toward Hohenheim seemed distant and almost _boring_ in comparison to the new issues of sexuality, domesticality, rationality, duality and most other _alities_in general and rather than plotting an agonizing death for his parent, he found himself wondering instead if fantasizing about loving someone who looked very much like yourself – in fact identical to yourself – could possibly be classed as narcissism.

Well, if he _was _going to get all worked up about Edward, he could at least find some way of justifying it. No matter how wrong it seemed.

Envy shook his head a little and allowed himself a wan smile in light of his predicament. His challenge for the rest of the day was to avoid Edward at all costs. Envy could just imagine his tongue slipping up on a completely innocent insult and morphing it into some odd kind of faux pas invitation to lick his face.

That would be...bad...

However, the Sin hadn't much time to dwell on the subject as all of a sudden, shouts sounded from inside the house and a decidedly flustered-looking flurry of blonde hair and lavender overalls sped haughtily up the garden path and shoved a shaking finger in his face.

"Oh!" It squealed furiously. "So _you're _Ed's new girlfriend!"

Winry Rockbell had a habit of overreacting.

She often felt that if she wasn't yelling at someone for some reason or the other there must be something wrong with her.

She could be sweet – oh yes, she could act very, very compromising. But generally her true nature was apparent in the volume of her voice.

Ed had once compared her to a foghorn recorded in a loop track on a 45 vinyl and played at high speed. Later on, he was reassured by the Risembool's local physician that the ringing in his ears would stop by teatime but he probably wouldn't be able to see out his right eye for a couple of days until the swelling went down.

Winry had apologized profusely as Trisha had carried her poor, black and blue son away from the clinic – bleating nonsense about an accident and that they boys played too rough a game. Then, as Mrs. Elric turned to scold her, she made _those__eyes_...

Those annoying, 'puppy dog', 'I didn't do it' eyes. They were more effective than a high-priced defense attorney – when she used these babies, she had you in the palm of her hand.

Only Envy hadn't fallen for them.

Though Izumi had managed to wrestle the Sin away from the girl before he got his thin hands around her throat, he still sat on the opposite side of the table – glaring daggers at her with 100 efficiency. Winry had apologized a least seventeen times, but still, the Sin had not given into the tearful baby-blues.

Edward was, despite himself, fairly impressed.

"Though it's lovely to see you again, Winry," Izumi said as she stood behind the seething Sin – one hand clamped on his shoulder. "What exactly brings you to Dublith?"

The girl's face brightened instantly and she clapped her hands together with excited enthusiasm – making Envy, who had been glowering intently at her – nearly leap out of his seat.

"Oh! Didn't you know? The National Automail Association had a convention in Rush Valley last week. The great big annual one that has Automail mechanics visiting from all over! I let Ed know about it…"

"He never mentioned anything.." Izumi frowned at Edward who looked away sheepishly.

"Yeah well he didn't turn up anyway." Winry made a face at the boy. "Granny and I had a stall there as usual – promoting the fine quality of Rockbell Automail- and we would have really loved it if our prime example had been there for demonstration..."

"You mean you'd have loved me to be there so you could show off!" Edward rolled his eyes. "And what's this about a prime example? I'm just your guinea pig!"

"You're _not _a guinea pig, Ed!" Winry cried.

"Nah, he's just an ordinary pig..." Envy contributed, picking his teeth.

"Shut up, chubbs!"

"Uh, anyway," The blonde girl continued. "I introduced Granny to Dominique-san and they hit it off immediately. Well, that is to say..." Winry blushed a little. "_After_we dragged Dominique-san out from hiding in the cellar and assured him that Granny wasn't going to chase him around the room..."

"Is Dominique still in Rush Valley?" Ed asked

"Yeah, those two are working on a new variation on Automail technology. We're trying to develop a type of carrier fluid that distributes the commands of the nerve signals from the brain to the machinery more smoothly than the current standard model. It's all very exciting!"

"Sure it is," Edward stifled a stage-yawn then yelped as a spanner went flying past his head. Envy raised his eyebrows. Though he didn't like Winry much initially, he had to hand it to her – she certainly possessed fast reflexes. _And_had the sense to carry a small arsenal about her person.

"After we'd set up at his shop," Winry went on, narrowing her eyes at the wincing Alchemist. "I decided to take a day trip to Dublith to visit you Izumi – since we were so nearby. Then when I get here I find Ed and Al and you guys tell me that stupid story about not being able to go inside because of some crazy person."

"Thanks _a __lot_," Envy sneered at Ed.

"And you immediately assume that the 'crazy person' is my girlfriend?" Ed growled ignoring the Sin's murderous look. "Since when would I ever even _think _about having a girlfriend?"

"Well I never know with _you!"_Winry stuck out her tongue then sighed and cast a tearful glance at Envy. "It was a mistake, honest! I'm really sorry! It's just that you're so...so…"

"What?" The Sin barked, irritably. "I'm so _what?"_

"Well, _cute _I guess..."

Envy blinked.

"Cute?"

"Yeah... B-but," Winry held up her hands. "I-in a _manly _kind of way..."

Edward let out an imperceptible groan and sank down in his chair. Even Izumi and Al shifted back a little – expecting fireworks. The Sin had been called a lot of insulting names by Ed and had been firmly reprimanded on more than a few occasions by the Lady of the house. But to call him cute? Well that would probably send him over the edge. Honestly, what man would want to be labeled a term one would usually use in reference to stuffed animals or baby bunnies?

_Cute... Damn...He's gonna...He's gonna..._

Smile?

The Alchemist gaped as a slow, good-natured grin blossomed over Envy's face and he gave an indifferent shrug.

"Ah, don't worry about it – happens all the time."

"It does?" squeaked Al.

"Well," Envy flicked back a long strand of hair out of his eyes. "I _did_choose this form 'cause it was nice to look at."

"Oh…"

"Chose your _form?"_Winry looked confused.

"He means haircut," Ed whispered to her, hurriedly.

"Well, anyway," Izumi coughed, breaking the tense atmosphere. "Now that we have our guest's gender properly sorted out, would you like to stay for lunch, Winry? The boys have just had breakfast, but we could go into town while I run a few errands and pick up something from the bakery on the way back."

"Sounds good," Winry smiled. "Oh but there's one thing I wanted to ask before I forget. And I wanted your opinions because you three are all Alchemists."

"Hmm?" Izumi frowned.

"When Granny and I were discussing the patients discovery process with a number of other mechanics at the convention, we came across the idea that Alchemy could be used in the Automail operations to aid the compatibility of living flesh and the mechanical limb."

"Why?" Edward rubbed his chin. "You've been doing just fine so far without that kind of intervention."

"It was an technique that Granny and Dominique-san came up with. They thought that using alchemy during the physiotherapy stages might speed up the recovery process. Perhaps if the Alchemist could figure out a way to create more red and white blood cells to aid the healing veins. And since the human body is just a great big conductor, the electrical exchange that happens with transmutations could aid the assimilation of the automail nerve links to the nerve fibres in the body."

Edward and Izumi blinked.

"Well," Winry pressed. "What do you think? If we can offer faster recovery for the patients, we could become very popular. Especially if we can cut the healing-time in half. We might even be able to lower the amount of pain. But raise the fee, of course."

"It's a good idea Winry," Izumi smiled sadly. "But it's very difficult for an alchemist to render a human body."

"But-"

"If they could, think of how hospitals and surgeries would be now! Imagine what great things an alchemist could do if such precise manipulation was possible. Unfortunately, it's just not that easy."

"Surely there must have been some medical alchemists. _Somebody_must have wanted to see if their powers could be used in such a way!"

"I saw Marco-san heal a girl's leg once," Al piped up. "But he used the red stone to do that. And it was only a twisted ankle too."

"Not exactly precision work," Ed crossed his arms over his chest. "And the red stones are only trouble." He added, shooting a meaningful glance at Envy, who narrowed his eyes.

"Alchemy _itself_is trouble!" He shot back in a forceful whisper.

"But if they studied really, really hard, could they do it then?" Winry looked crestfallen.

"Maybe," Izumi picked an invisible thread off the front of her shirt. "But it would be years and years of work. And who would you employ - one of the State Alchemists? Or perhaps someone studying to enter the military? Alchemists for hire I've never heard of, but they could be expensive."

"Actually, I was thinking of trying myself." Winry grinned. "Just because it's for the sake of Automail Surgery advancement. Not to be a complete alchemy geeks like these guys" She gestured to Ed and Al. Izumi laughed.

"But you saw how hard we had to train!" Ed shook his head. "You were there! And you _know_I could never do work to that intricate detail!"

"I figured that was because you tried to learn everything at once," Winry reasoned. "I would just be studying one thing! And my parents left heaps of medical books and journals from their work in the clinic in Risembool before the war. I just have to put the two together."

"It's a very commendable idea," Izumi said. "But it'll be a lot harder than you think – near impossible. But then again…" She shrugged, smiling. "Who am I use the 'i' word?"

Winry grinned so hard it seemed her mouth was going to tear her face. Envy's expression darkened.

"But it _is_impossible!" He snapped. "She's just a normal huma- uhh, girl. She can't use alchemy!"

"Of course she can, idiot." Edward retorted. "_Anyone _can learn to use alchemy! It's just the extent that you pursue the craft that determines how good you are. That and some people have a natural affinity for it."

"Like _you_ I suppose?" The Sin sneered.

"It's like being good at math or drawing," Al added brightly. "Anyone can learn to add or draw pictures to portray what something looks like, but some people are just talented at it. Like Nii-san – he can draw, but his pictures are...are...um-"

"Abominable?" Suggested Winry.

"Terrible?" Added Izumi.

_"Thanks a lot, you guys!"_

"Not very good," Finished Al, nervously. "But you see, he still has the ability."

"So, _anyone _can do Alchemy."

"That's right."

"Any _kind _of Alchemy."

"Uh-huh," Al nodded. "As long as they study it properly and carefully."

Envy scratched underneath his headband curiously.

"The only ones who _can't_of course," Ed added, a superior, mocking tone playing on his voice. "Are Homunculi."

Winry's glee morphed into a questioning look while Izumi shot the boy a meaningful glare, but Envy simply shrugged again and got up from the table.

"Oh well, too bad for them then – _who ever __they __are." _He grumbled the last part under his breath at Edward as he stalked out the room.

"Did I say something wrong?" Winry asked tentatively, watching the kitchen door as it closed soundlessly by itself.

"No, it's okay, he's just a bit hot-headed. Shall we go?" Izumi brushed the girl's concern aside briskly, pulling her black jacket off the hook on the back of the kitchen door. She sat her palm between Winry's shoulder blades and righteously marched her outside

"Oh, okay. Hey, what did you say that guys name was again?"

Edward could literally hear Izumi pause on the doorstep, conjuring up some sort of imaginary persona for Envy. Hopefully she'd remember that his name had been mentioned when they were fighting Wrath on Dublith's island and that Winry – curse her good memory – might recognize it. But when his teacher replied:

"Oh, um... that's Danny."

He let out a relived breath.

At least Winry would only be staying a day. The less people to get involved with Envy, the better. Once she was gone, things would go back to normal.

Well, as _normal _as they could get at Izumi's house.

It was just luck that all military soldiers had to perform a fortnights worth of community service year.

It just luck that Roy Mustang suddenly decided that in the entire time he'd been employed as a State Alchemist, Ed had never been ordered to carry out his annual duties and was therefore owing six weeks of his time to the Central Headquarters janitor's closet.

It was just luck that – two days after Winry's departure - the Elric brothers got the order to return to the Capital. Both boys – even though Al wasn't necessarily part of the military. Roy included him anyway, simply because where ever Ed went, Al followed. In addition, Al was good for calming Ed's temper when the Colonel somehow _mysteriously_ infuriated him. That and the younger Elric was handy for lifting heavy things when Armstrong wasn't around.

Envy waited until the brothers with Izumi and Shigu escorting them (to make sure they didn't run away) before he raced into Edward's room and began rifling through the mess – turfing over piles of paper, accumulated keep sakes, books and diagrams. Several times he sneezed because of the dust and twice he nearly lost his lunch at the strange smells that wafted from various nooks and crannies but finally, after almost an hour of frantic searching, he found what he was looking for.

A book. An old, worn, weather-beaten book that was hidden beneath a loose board in the floor of Edward's closet. It would have been completely impossible to see the hiding place except that Envy was particularly good at finding things which were supposed to remain hidden.

That, and he hit his head rather hard on the floorboards as he fell over while searching in the bottom of the wardrobe and knocked the two by four out of place. He looked it over carefully and grinned.

_So_anyone _can __do __it, __eh?_

Suddenly the kitchen door slammed shut – heralding the return of the Curtis', but Envy had already managed to sneak back into his room by the time Izumi came up to check on him. He'd been able to rearrange the mess in Edward's room so it was pretty much as he'd found it – taking care to replace the board and to push a pile of magazines on top.

When Izumi poked her head around the Sin's door, all she could she was his back as he sat at the small desk in his room – concentrating heavily on reading. Though she was a little surprised by his subdued attitude that day, she thought nothing of it. Really, if he was doing something constructive, why bother him?

Of course, what she failed to check was the reading material.

Envy grinned as he turned the first page.

_Revised __Alchemy __Notes __of __Edward __and __Alphonse __Elric, _He read to himself. _Human __Transmutation; __Chapter O__ne._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Next<strong>**Chapter**: I shall commence the squicking - be warned!_

_**Special****thanks****to****Darkazriel** for the use of the word 'tail' and for the help with the FMA world map. I swear I studied the manga and anime, but obviously not closely enough. You're a gem - thankyou!_

_**Cor-chan** - At the moment he's ignoring them XD. Glad you like the psychodrama - I like to play with brains (they be squishy o.0)_

_**Shiroi****Chi** - Ah, thanks so much! Yes, I thought that bit was going to be smaller too - I'd originally planned for Envy to win the arguement, but it's fun to cut him down XD_

_**Rejected****Angel** - I LOVE playing on the relationships between the older Homunculi. Just sort of hinting on emotions makes them so much more interesting. Thankyou for the lovely review - I'm glad you chose the story too_

_**Caz** - You munter! You like it when I'm mean to Envy! And stop calling me Mpreggernator! Ha-ha!_

_**Mumeishi** - One of the reasons chapters take me a long time is because I'm stuck in a book or website researching my material! I'm an information whore XD_

_**GW**__**Katrina**__-__Well,__you__won't__see__it__for__awhile,__but__I__shall__credit__you__and__shower__you__with__cookies.__XDD_

_Cheers for the Reviews all round!_


	8. Loss

_**I don't own FMA - if I did, Envy would be wearing even less...**_

_**Author's**____**scrib:**_ _I__would__like__to__announce__my__absolute__glee__in__convincing__ShiroiChi__to__be__my__Beta-reader.__All__it__took__was__a__few__cookies__and__the__promise__of__a__glimpse__up__Envy's__skirt...__And__my__unconditional__love__XD_

_What's with Moo-moo? Haha! Moo-moo is whatever used to live under the bed or in your closet! I just gave it a cow-like name to tie in with Ed's hatred of milk XD_

**Dark Humor**

_Part 8: Loss_

"Nii-san?"

"Hmm?"

"Are we allowed in here?"

"He told us to clean _everything_, didn't he?"

"I thought Colonel Mustang meant the toilets and the Mess hall – not his own office..."

"He can consider this an extra since he was _so__kind_in giving us the most disgusting jobs he can think of." Edward wrinkled his nose as he ran a finger through a snow drift of dust on the top of Roy's filing cabinet. "I swear he ran a thorough inspection of all the toilet blocks in Central Headquarters and assigned us the _dirtiest_ones to clean!"

"They weren't _that_bad, Nii-san..."

"Oh yeah? What about having to clean the _women's_bathrooms as well!"

"Ah," Al's armor took on an impossible crimson tinge. "Mm, _that_was awkward. I don't think many of the female officers like us anymore."

Edward shook his head and moved a box of papers from Roy's desk to a space on the shelf of the overly cluttered bookcase – shoving the carton back roughly.

"Yeah, I think I know almost all of the women here quite well now...by their _scream!"_The Alchemist harrumphed in irritation, drop-kicking a pair of the Colonel's boots over the back of his chair. "Honestly, if he wants me to quit the military, he just has to keep throwing this kind of crap at me."

"Colonel Mustang doesn't want you to quit the military, Nii-san!"

"Are you sure?" Edward shot his brother a sarcastic look. "You don't think he'd rather have us take up janitorial positions? I mean, these blue overalls are _so_fashionable!" He struck a pose in the mundane blue garment – which was at least three sizes too big for him then sighed, slumping his shoulders. "Two days left then we can go back to Dublith. Then it'll probably take _another_six weeks to get rid of the stink of disinfectant from us!"

"Well _I_can't smell it, but I'm sure it's not as bad as you think, Nii-san." Al leaned on his broom, gazing out the window.

"Believe me, Al, it is. It's almost as if I have my own personal forcefield that repels anyone who comes within three feet of my person. Even Hawkeye holds her nose when she'd giving us the daily roster. No man is supposed to walk around smelling of-" Edward squinted at the bottle of brightly coloured multi-purpose cleaner. "-Happy Forest Cleaning Lubricant... what the...?"

"You're exaggerating, Nii-san."

"No! Look!" Edward gripped the bottle with both hands, and peered closer at the twee advertising jargon on the label. "_'Happy__Forest__Cleaning__Lubricant__ – __cleans__all__your__personal__like__sparkly__new.__Now__with__woodland__flower__and__animal__smell.'_"

"We smell like woodland animals?" A note of panic struck Al's voice.

"_'Made__in__Xing.__Warning:__Do__not__consume__children.'_" Edward looked up, equally shocked. "God Al! What _are_we working with here? Look, I think it's made the ends of my hair go green!"

"Ahh, perhaps we should stick to soap and water," Al suggested nervously. "But still, Nii-san, we shouldn't _really_be in the Colonel's office."

"I'm just sweeping."

"Sweeping doesn't mean hiding his belongings where he can't find them and looking through his personal papers!"

"Well it's a shambles in here anyway, I'm just moving things out of the road!" Ed fought for excuses. "He _said_to clean everything we could! I just can't believe he transferred almost six months ago and he _still_hasn't sorted himself out! "

"Well I suppose he's been very busy..."

"What? Trying to implement the bill to make it mandatory for all female officers to wear miniskirts? Besides, Schieska and Lieutenant Hawkeye go through his stuff all the time."

"That's no excuse, they're probably looking for important documents which he was suppposed to hand in for filing! They're _allowed!"_Al stamped his foot, showing a rare degree of impatience. Ed huffed, crumpling a wad of blank paper into a ball and threw it over his shoulder. He knew better than to argue with Al at this point.

"Alright, alright, fine!" He said, throwing up his arms in exasperation as he trudged over to the doorway. "Let's go then."

"No," Al crossed his arms – the sound of metal scraping against metal shaved up Edwards spine like fingernails on a blackboard. "You're forgetting something."

"What?" The Alchemist turned, baffled. His brother pointed to a small, wire wastepaper basket at his feet that was spilling paper and old used stationery like some kind of administrative volcano.

"The rubbish bins."

"You can't be ser-"

"We _are_supposed to be cleaning, aren't we?" Al motioned to another bin by the door – ignoring the crabby expression that scrunched up his sibling's usually handsome face. "I'll take this one, you take that one."

Ed glared at the metal boy for a few seconds before letting out a plaintive sigh and knelt down to shuffle the second waste paper basket away from the bookcase, muttering incoherencies as he did so. Suddenly he stopped in mid-ramble and carefully plucked something from the rubbish pile - slowely rocking back onto his heels. Al couldn't see his eyes for his lanky blond curtain of a fringe, but his mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he smoothed the wrinkles from a torn sheet of copy paper with his left hand.

"Nii-san?" He asked.

Edward said nothing as he scanned the contents of the note a few times. Silence fell over the room making it seem hollow and empty – despite its dishevelled appearance. Small, pricking crackly sounds invaded the silence as Ed's grip tightened on the piece of paper and his hands began to shake.

"Nii-san?" Al tried again, worry thrumming his voice. "What is th-"

"You two..!" The Colonel bellowed as he magically appeared in the doorway, his dark eyes glinting with peevish venom. "Are _supposed_to be washing dishes in the mess hall at this very moment! Would you like to tell me exactly _what_you are doing in a commanding officer's personal workspace? And before you begin bear in mind the explanation had better be good, nee _immaculate!"_

The pun was left hanging in the air. Mustang had a bad habit of making them when he was angry – along with some rather silly faux pas. However, those who were the target of his wrath were usually bright enough not to point it out.

"Ah," Al raised his hands in defense. "We were just passing from the sector C bathrooms and thought we'd empty your rubbish bins! We didn't know we weren't allowed, we're very so-"

"Why didn't you tell us?" Edward interrupted quietly, still gazing at the wobbling sheet of paper in his grasp.

Roy looked at him, raising one eyebrow quizzically.

"All the waste paper from the offices goes directly to the shredder and we take it there ourselves," The Colonel lied through his teeth – usually he bullied Schiezka into taking it, even though she wasn't necessarily his secretary. Either that or Riza would get tired of tripping over the paper-mountains and take it herself. "We have separate cleaners for the administrative areas. Now if you're done-"

"No!" Ed shot up from his sitting position and thrust the paper at his superior. "I didn't mean the cleaning job! _Screw_the cleaning job! Why didn't you tell us? Why...Why didn't you tell us about Hughes?"

A shocked silence fell over the small congregation in the office. The Colonel's eyes rolled down to the crumpled letter in Ed's hand where his own smudged handwriting announced the death of his best friend to the now widow Gracia Hues under the awning of an emotionless Amestris Military letterhead. It was a draft letter he'd found the other day while sorting though an old pile of memos from his former station – having written so many versions of it, in his grief he'd forgotten where he'd filed them all. The one Ed had come across was one of the first – when he'd allowed his emotions to spill onto the page as he attempted to wade through them and overcome them in order to compact the letter down to a summary of black and white events.

One is not supposed to display feelings in official letters.

_Or__in__the__Military,_Roy thought as he noted the boys trembling lower lip with painfully cool eyes. _At__least__that's__what__Hughes__always__said.__You__can't__move__forward__if__you__keep__looking__behind__you._

Edward repeated the question again, a lump in his throat restricting the volume of his voice – while his brother stood still in mute older boy wasn't angry yet - but he would be. As soon as the grief passed, the rage would move in, blinding whatever rationality and good judgement his mind possessed. Roy had felt the same way of course – for what amount of judiciousness could compensate the death of a friend? No, not just a friend – family. Roy closed his eyes, tiredly.

And it wasn't simply 'death' – it was _murder._

"Fullmetal," He said – though 'Edward' played about on his tongue as he moved forward, quietly plucking the letter from the shaking hand – folding it carefully into a small, white tombstone.

"I think you'd better come with me."

Envy studied the chalk-drawn array on the floor of his bedroom critically, then consulted his stolen book - squinting at the faded pencil scratchings by the thin light of dawn.

Learning the array for the transmutation had taken him a lot longer than he'd expected. Geniuses, though they were, the Elrics couldn't write to save themselves and after several days of simply trying to decipher their awkward juvenile script, Envy had found that log was actually written in no apparrent order – rather, it was simply a bunch of reciprocal findings congealed together.

That day, he found himself christening an alphabet of colourful new curses.

But finally, once he'd been able to work out roughly what stages went where, he took to the pen himself and re-wrote the entire practice himself – just so he'd be sure what he was doing when the time came. _How_he was able to understand such intricate alchemic jargon, he didn't know – he just blamed his accelerated comprehension on his now overbearing frustration and niggling pride.

Or was that vice-versa?

Of course, all this extra work saw the actual transmutation itself being preformed on the dawn of the very day the Elrics were scheduled to return. The Sin had woken up _extremely_early and was in a particularly bad mood, but he knew better than to try to do the transmutation with them around – Edward could probably smell Alchemy from a mile away. No matter, he'd only have to do it once and then...

Then he'd leave. Just go. The very minute he was rid of the stupid baby he'd be out the door and heading back to Central. He wouldn't even bother with killing anyone – he just wanted out and any kind of venegeance he'd deal with later. He just wanted to be back to his old, evil self and forget he ever had emotions or feelings. Or hormones.

_Especially hormones._

Naturally he wasn't sure if this would work or not – after all, he didn't understand the science behind the alchemy one bit, he was just going to follow what the notes instructed. However he figured since he'd come from beyond the gate, he had the advantage of kinship and the creatures who lived beyond the dark doors might be able to help him. Surely they'd be willing to aid their brother... after all, he'd once been one of them, hadn't he?

And to offer the baby to the gate in return for his powers was the cleanest way to get rid of the brat that he could think of – much better than cutting himself open – for then he'd be at risk of passing out from losing too much blood.

Or dying. Envy shuddered. Dying was _definitely_ not on his agenda.

With a decisive huff he cracked his knuckles and placed his hands on the Alchemy array and waited. Hopefully, if there was _someone_a little merciful in the celestial circle, this entire _farce_might be over soon.

A few taut seconds before the curling symbols fizzed and glowed and the small, dark room burst into bright light.

Then Envy was gone.

_Gracia Hues could be described as many things._

_She was beautiful. She was kind. She was unbelievably strong._

_But she wasn't a widow. The word – which seemed synonymous with 'black, 'old' and 'out-lived' - just didn't suit her. She was graceful, wonderful._

_And she smiled._

_As Roy solemnly walked the Elric brothers up to the Hughes' front door where Gracia stood waiting with her little girl balanced on her hip, she smiled._

_Smiled._

_She greeted them warmly – setting Elysia down onto the step so she could embrace Edward, then Al. She made various jovial comments as one would to friends they have not seen in a long time. She was glad to see them again – it had been awhile hadn't it? And how nice of Roy to stop by as well - she'd seen his car often but had not been able to catch him before he drove away. He must be very busy now, with his new position in Central and all._

_She fussed over the boys, clicking her tongue as she patted Ed's long bangs – politely omitting any mention of his lack of growth in the vertical department. Al spluttered a wan laugh as she joked about seeing rust on his armor, then she told them again how good it was to see them and bade them inside._

_She offered tea. She'd made biscuits. She urged them to sit on the sofa – insisting upon taking Edward's and Roy's coats. Al made a comment on the weather. Gracia enquired after Winry. Elysia bounced on the couch opposite and told her attentive audience how old she was – holding up her hand in gesticulation._

_Gracia corrected her by uncurling a fourth, sticky finger._

_Finally__Edward__unlatched__his__tongue__and__blurted__out__a__torrent__of__apologies.__He__had__meant__to__write,__but__the__number__of__recent__events__cluttered__his__mind.__For__some__reason__or__another__ – __though__it__was_obviously _a__mistake__in__administration__-__he__hadn't__been__informed__of__Hughes'__death__and__regretted__that__he__and__Al__had__not__been__at__the__funeral__service._

_He was sorry. They were sorry. They hadn't known._

_The woman interrupted him apologetically and quietly took a moment to lead her daughter out of the room. When she came back she was holding a large scrapbook which she placed on the table and proceeded to go through with the brothers._

_Pasted lovingly between the dull newsprint pages was just about every notice she could find on Hughes' murder – including the official letter Roy had sent. Edward cast a dark look at his superiour, but the man did not catch it – instead he was focussing his attention on his now empty teacup as if the meaning of life lay in a jumbled metaphysical message in the wet dregs. Gracia turned another page and noted a few details of evidence that Roy had privately given her – making them promise not to let the information leave the room; this was between themselves._

_Nervously, Edward took a deep breath and asked her if she suspected anyone. Gracia blanched for the first time, but replied in an even voice that there simply wasn't enough evidence. Maes had been outside in a phone booth in one of the dangerous districts of the Capital City. The last phone call he'd made was to Roy – just after the Colonel had left his office in pursuit of the Elrics. Warrant Officer Farman, who'd answered the telephone, had mentioned that Hughes had sounded frantic - as though there'd been some kind of pursuit – but the Lieutenant Colonel had hung up before he'd been able to ask what was wrong or if he required backup._

_So far, her husband's murder was a mystery, but there was a rumor within the ranks that it had been cleared as a simple criminal attack._

_Roy grunted as she said this - how fitting for the military to clear things 'simply'_

_Edward nodded meekly and said little else. Once the tea had been finished and the biscuits ruefully chewed, the small party bid their farewells – promising to return for another visit in the near future._

_Gracia smiled again and waved them goodbye._

_It was true she was a widow – regardless of whether she deserved it or not. But her strength shone over her sadness. She had her own life now, she had Elysia. And though only a memory of Maes was left in her heart – a shadow of the Lieutenant Colonel's cheery persona – it was enough._

_Gracia Hues had not let grief hold her back._

As Riza pulled away from the townhouse – she'd been waiting the whole time outside in the car, Edward had to applaud her patience - Roy cleared his throat awkwardly and turned to his subordinate.

"I hope," He stated gruffly – the usual smooth consistency of his voice marred by a heavy anchor of emotion. "That you will not endeavour to commit a stupidly heroic act of vengeance."

"What's that supposed to mean," Edward countered, blandly. He wanted to argue but felt the rage and bitterness had been drained from him – leaving only a cold, flat feeling of sadness.

"You tend to think with this," Roy motioned to his heart. "Before you use this." He tapped his skull. "I had wanted to tell you in person, but-"

"The right moment never presented itself. And the longer you left it, the harder it got until finally it became lost like all your other jobs and papers." Edward finished for him. Roy's head bobbed in an imperceptible nod and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Since when did you grow up, Fullmetal?"

"I've had a lot of things on my mind lately." Edward shrugged. "I guess I haven't had the chance to feel sorry for myself. After four years of focussing on that, the whole idea is becoming a little jaded."

"You don't want to regain your original forms anymore?" Roy frowned. "I thought that was the whole point of your becoming a 'dog of the military'."

"It's not that." The boy rested his elbow on the window frame and gazed outside. "It just seems like so many people are suffering because our quest. I'm tired of it."

"I've looked into Hughes' notes on the Fifth Laboratory – at least what Schiezka could find after the Fuhrer ordered his research to be put into storage. It seems these 'Homunculi' beings are interested in the Philosophers stone."

Edward said nothing and continued to stare out the window.

"You drew pictures of them," Roy pressed. "You said they weren't human – that they could do _things_. What 'things', Fullmetal?"

"Non-human things," Ed answered, unhelpfully. The Colonel sighed.

"Very well, but let me tell you something – perhaps it'll be of some use to you.

Schiezka informed me that the night he was killed, Hughes had made some kind of discovery concerning the events of the 5th laboratory and had dashed out of his office after making a phone call – firing her on the spot."

"Firing? He fired Schiezka?" Al leaned forward. "Why?"

"Obviously the information was that damaging," Roy pinched his chin. "Schiezka didn't think about it at the time, but now she believes there may have been some kind of conspiracy that he'd stumbled across. Now for some reason, that night Hughes entered a hotel in the old town and when I found which it was and spoke to the man at the reception, he said he'd seen Hughes enter with a woman – a woman with long brown hair and an executive suit. Only when he left he was with a different woman – one with short hair and was wearing the same uniform as he. Now who do you know in the Central department that has short dark hair and wears the standard issue uniform?"

"It could have been anyone," Ed answered slowly, tearing his eyes away from the passing scenery.

"Who would have known Hughes was there? He didn't even tell Schiezka where he was going."

"I don't know who the long-haired woman would have been" The blond bit his lip. "But Lieutenant Ross was one of the people who rescued us from the 5th Laboratory. She might have been helping Hughes. And she _does_fit the description of the second person..."

Al gasped.

"Nii-san! Lieutenant Ross would never have-"

"Ross claimed she was home all evening – she wasn't on duty." Roy interrupted. "Yes, I'd come to a similar conclusion, but Lieutenant Broche can confirm her alibi."

"Do you believe him?" The younger Elric queried, timidly. Roy swallowed hard, twiddling his gloved fingers.

"Uh, yes. He had a...very believable story. Very, um...explicit. Anyway, for that, all suspicions against Lieutenant Ross have been dropped."

Al sat back, a little confused, but Edward let out a breath and dazedly linked his hands in his lap. So Ross was safe – good. But then, who? A woman – short, dark hair and a military uniform.

"Also," Roy added, as if reading Edwards thoughts. "The Hotel manager reported blood near one of the rooms Hughes had asked to see and one of Hughes' throwing knives was found in the hallway. Obviously something had happened in the hotel - maybe some kind of setup."

_Setup_.

Edwards eyes widened as realization sprinkled like frost over his nerves. Just like the other murders that had been occurring in Central a few months ago. Murders that had mysteriously stopped ever since he'd taken the homunculus into his care - not that he had any doubt that Lust and the rest had had something to do with them. And _if_the Homunculi had been involved in Hughes' murder – _if_the prime suspect was a woman who _looked_like Lieutenant Ross...

Edwards hands clenched in his lap as his anger had started to build again – mounting a gathering weight in his chest.

_Who__could__that__have__been...__Who_indeed!

Noticing the boy's form tense, Roy shot him a concerned glance and tugged on the collar of his jacket, distractedly.

"I think I've paid my debt for not informing you of Hughes's death. But if that bit of information means anything to you at all – if it, say, _jogs__your__memory_ - you'll let me know, understand? If I find you've gone off on some ridiculous personal vendetta, I will deal with you myself."

"I understand," Edward assured him, though it took all his self control to not to say anything more.

When he got back to Dublith, however, he knew he'd be saying alot.

_The Gate was not dormant._

_Since the time it had been created the World Gate had never been left alone by the meddling Alchemists. There was always some idiot using its power to transmute an object into something or other and flashes of exchange illuminated the dark doors like Vegas lightning._

_The black creatures of the between-worlds hummed in production within the depths of the gate – organising final products and jibbering happily to themselves in a high-pitched singsong only they themselves could understand._

_If one looked closer, one would realize that some of the creatures were larger than others – the ones that had been able to fight off their siblings in order to pilfer a limb that had been lost in a Human Transmutation – and they stood over the rest, watching, waiting for the time when they might grow strong enough to open the doors for themselves._

_The hive mind of their younger, primitive family was lost to them and because they could partly think for themselves they sat ready like greedy vultures – the imagination of muscles tensed to leap at the chance of freedom._

Just let it open again. Just let there be another.

_No, the Gate was not dormant. The creatures were never dormant. They were always waiting. Always expecting._

_And__when__they__saw__their__son,__their__brother__ – __their__child_with _child,__kneeling__dubiously__before__them,__they__cackled__gleefully__at__his__folly._

_Though the Gate opened its doors like the arms of a subordinate father, the thousand eyes beyond it glinted with treacherous malice._

_Daddy wasn't always kind._

"You boys came back at just the right time," Izumi smiled as she packed a thick packet of sandwiches into a picnic basket and closed the lid – flicking the hook fastening into place. "It's the annual Spring fair today – there's going to be lots happening in town."

"Really?" Al clapped his hands happily. "Of course, I remember that! You took us once, didn't you?"

Izumi nodded.

"I did. It's even bigger now too – Rush Valley has started getting involved so they can sell their wares. There's a lot of interest in Automail technology these days."

"Do you think Winry and Granny will come? They're in Rush Valley at the moment."

"They're coming," Izumi winked. "When would _they_miss out on an opportunity to sell things? We're going to meet them at their stall after the fair has ended in the evening and walk up to Stotts Hill to watch the fireworks."

"They've got fireworks now?" Edward asked, placing his case down on the kitchen table. He shrugged his travelling jacket of his shoulders and threw it over the back of a chair, irritably. They'd just gotten back to Izumi's from the train station and he was exhausted from the overnight trip. He hadn't slept at all, of course – the information Roy had given his was tossing about relentlessly in his mind. Questions. So many questions. Painful accusations. He'd be talking to Envy later – if _talking_was quite the word for it.

Interrogating, perhaps, was more accurate. Yelling could possibly be included as well.

But it could wait – it would have to wait. Just a few moments, just enough time for him to collect himself. Although there was no way he'd be going out. The longer he put off finding out the truth, the more likely his head was going to explode.

"They're brought in from a little village to the North." Izumi nodded, oblivious to Edward's sulky mood. "Really spectacular stuff. They get better every year."

"I can't wait!" Al gleefully clasped his gauntlets to his chest. "When are we going?"

"Now, actually, " their Sensei laughed. "Shigu and Mason are waiting in the shop."

"What about Envy?" Edward asked, addressing the tabletop. Alphonse inhaled sharply.

"He's guarding the house," Izumi patted him on the back, smiling. "He's been very good lately, you know. Very quiet. He's even started reading to entertain himself. In fact I don't think I've seen him without a book as of late. He won't come out though – the baby is a bit more, well, _obvious_now." The woman made a curving motion about her stomach. "If Winry saw him she might be a bit surprised. Anyway he didn't seem very well this morning – a bit peaky."

"I'll stay behind with him then." Edward stated, evenly. "You don't want to leave someone like thatall alone. Even for a few hours."

"Are you sure?" Izumi frowned. "I thought you might like the fair."

"Nii-san?" Al added, worriedly.

"I'm sure," Edward looked up, trying to urge his stubborn lips into at least some near semblance of asmile. "I'm a little tired anyway."

"Well alright, but if you change your mind we'll just be in the village square." Izumi slid the picnic basket over her arm. "You'll have to make your own dinner though."

"Nii-san?" Al tried again quietly as Izumi stepped out the door.

"Don't worry Al," Edward struggled to retain his halfhearted grin. "I'm only going to ask him a couple of things, that's all."

"If you're sure..." Alphonse's young voice was unconvinced, but his brother laughed and shoved him outside.

"Just go enjoy yourself! Make sure you pick up a treat for me, okay?"

The metal boy nodded – though he still didn't seem quite convinced – and trotted after Izumi. Edward watched them from the kitchen window as they made their way down the street – happily chatting to one another. Alphonse seemed to have repressed the knowledge of Hughes' death for the time being – perhaps until he was able to deal with it. Or until Ed was...

What seemed most likely though, however Edward hated to imagine it, Alphonse just didn't want to blame Envy. He couldn't – it wasn't in his nature. In fact, Edward was certain his younger brother actually _pitied_the Homunculus – as someone would a stray kitten or a baby bird that'd fallen from its nest. Compassion was Al's worst vice – if that wasn't a paradox – and Edward knew at some point he'd have to remind his little brother that even the most helpless of kittens still had teeth.

Muscle by muscle his smile dropped until his entire expression had chilled and his mouth had reverted to its determined set line – the jaw behind it clenched with repressed fury.

Just a few things – a few questions. That's all he was going to ask the Homunculus.

_Before he ripped it's head off..._

Two hours later.

One hundred and twenty minutes.

Seven thousand, two hundred seconds.

Time seemed the only thing that was important at the moment, for to count the seconds ticking by on the kitchen clock gave Edward something else to do other than bolt up the stairs and commence hacking into Envy with nameless sharp objects.

Time cemented his feet to the floor – his ass to a kitchen chair as he grudgingly summoned the self control to talk to the creature upstairs. He knew that walking into the room in a blind rage was probably the worst plan of action – with the emphasis on the 'plan' part, or lack thereof – as it would only give Envy another foothold over him. At the moment the Homunculus had no idea of how Hughes' death would affect Edward and to show his grief would only signify his lack of control and his submission to his would be hard to hide them, but Edward would have to get what he wanted out of Envy.

Answers.

_But__then__again,_Edward's inner monologue reasoned as he eased himself off the chair and trudged out of the kitchen, climbing the stairs with slow, deliberate steps. _Perhaps__he_should _see__how__this__has__affected__me.__I__should__let__him__look__at__the__product__of__his__handiwork.__Even__better,__I__should__let__him_feel _it!_

The Alchemist's face hardened as he approached the door. He wasn't exactly sure what would eventuate from this _chat,_but any amount of trust Edward had developed in regards to the Homunculus had been completely and utterly destroyed. In fact he knew he'd been naive to even _think_Envy wouldn't be capable of such a thing.

Edward took a deep, shaking breath then exhaled forcibly and pushed the door open without knocking.

The Shape shifter was sitting on his bed – curled up in tight ball with his back resting against the headboard. Izumi had been right, he did seem a little pale and although a greasy smirk jerked the corner of his mouth upwards when the Alchemist entered the room, his usual contemptuous look seemed slightly diluted – as if he hadn't the energy to maintain his completely vile attitude.

"Has six weeks passed that quickly? I thought it'd be a lot longer before I had to look at your ugly mug again, O'Chibi."

Edward ignored the insult and approached the bed – his hands twitching at his sides, desperately eager to become fists. He'd thought to cross them over his chest, but that would seem too defensive and to place them on his hips was the look of a scolding mother. And he didn't want to simply admonish the Sin – he wanted answers. But his hands didn't feel so comfortable swinging alone in space - perhaps if he put them in his pockets?

_No, leave them out. Let them be ready._

"I want to know something," He said, moving round the end of the bed so he was standing directly over the Shape shifter.

"Do you?" Envy quirked an eyebrow sarcastically, looking up at the Alchemist. "I don't think there's much room up amongst all that blond hair for any actual _knowledge,_though. You'd better be careful or your head might explo-"

"Shut up," Edward interrupted, icily. "Was it you that killed Lieutenant Colonel Hughes?"

Envy blinked, momentarily baffled.

"Who?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes," Ed repeated evenly, glaring at the Homunculus. "Maes Hughes. He was investigating the Fifth Laboratory the night he died."

"Hughes... Hughes.." Envy comically tapped a finger to his lips to Edward's furious vexation. "Guy with glasses? Throws knives – a good shot if I remember correctly."

"He also had a wife and a little girl," Edward added through clenched teeth.

"Oh yes, that's right." The Sin shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah, I killed him. So?"

"Why?"

"What?"

"_Why_did you kill him?"

"Why do you think, meathead? I was ordered to." Envy wanted to roll his eyes, but the look on the Alchemist's face had suddenly become far too serious for him disregard so flippantly. The warning signs were clear that this conversation could turn very messy very quickly and though the Sin adored teasing Edward, he knewthe boy had been close to his Lieutenant Colonel. So close, he probably regarded him as family. And to fuck with family – especially the Elric family – was just _asking_to take a barefoot stroll on broken glass.

However, despite his instincts of self-preservation, Envy was _also_ particularly pissed off. His alchemic experiment hadn't worked – though he'd been able to summon the gate begging it to remove the child from his body, nothing had been taken from him. If fact he swore he those little bastards laughing at him. So here he was, back to square one with nothing to show for it except for a month an a half of wasted time and a particularly nagging guts-ache.

"Why?"

"Why, why, why?" Envy spat, irritated. "Think about it. He was sticking his nose where it shouldn't have been – that's why. Can't you work out anything for yourself?"

"I want to hear you say it."

"Say _what?"_Envy pulled himself to his knees so that he was eye-level with the Alchemist, absently rubbing a hand over the side of his abdomen as a strange fluttering feeling in his belly intensified, stopped, then started again. He hated that tickling sensation – even more so once he'd worked out it was the baby kicking against his insides. It just made him more aware that it was there – that he'd let it _live._

But although he had acclimatized to the feeling over the last couple of weeks, in the previous hour or so it had suddenly become painful. Not excruciating as such, but sore enough that it bothered him. The only thing he wanted at this moment was to be left alone, however the little fuckwit Alchemist had made it clear this wasn't going to happen. Envy curled his upper lip in annoyance.

"_What,_Elric? That I killed him? That I put a bullet in his guts because he was an irritating little shi-"

The fist collided with his cheekbone before he even finished the sentence. It wasn't hard – not this time – but its suddenness took him by surprise. Grinning, Envy glared back into Edward's face – malice dancing in his eyes.

"So I get a smack every time I give the right answer, do I?" He cackled, wiping a splatter of saliva from the corner of his mouth. "Alright then, I _did_kill the Lieutenant Colonel. And you know what? I _enjoyed_it! Because I _like_killing humans – that's what I do."

Edward hit him again – another box to his temple, much harder than last time. Yet he did not attempt to shut the Homunculus up – he knew he had to listen. His golden eyes burned fury like miniature suns and narrowed as Envy reeled once again, starting to laugh.

"And you know what else? I turned into his _wife_before I shot him – otherwise he would have just slit my throat again. But he couldn't kill her," Then Sin giggled harder as shock veiled over Edwards expression. "He couldn't knife his woman now could he? He paused - a spilt second - but it was all I needed. That's as much as you fucking stupid humans mean to me, O'Chibi – One _measly__second!"_

The punch was so hard it knocked the Sin's senses offline momentarily and he tumbled off the bed with the inertia, his head cracking painfully against the floorboards. Pain flashed over his skull as his body piled clumsily on top of him - throwing white dots in front of his eyes and he rolled over ungracefully onto his side. He'd counted on it, he knew it was coming alright, but he'd never been quite as _affected_by a blow before.

Suddenly he felt – apprehensive. Not scared, exactly – he wasn't afraid of Edward, but his body was starting to do things he didn't like. Such as hurting.

And he _really_hated hurting – as pain was one thing he couldn't control and it tended to take his concentration away from Ed's reactions. He would have liked to have at least dodged _one_ of the punches, but he just couldn't move fast enough. The mirth had dissolved from his face completely as a small ball of unease bounced about in his stomach - mixing with the hot shards of pain that had sneakily crept over the other aches and chilled them so that coolness cut into the pit of his belly.

"What's wrong, shithead?" Envy panted, swaying as he sat up on his knees – ignoring his inner common sense as it screamed for him to stop. "I thought you wanted me to talk? It's your fault, you know. It's you're fault he _died_. If you hadn't gotten him involved..."

"_Shut__up!"_Edward roared, finally cracking. It hadn't taken much – he _knew_it wasn't going to take much, but he'd held out as long as he could. "You can't blame something like that on me, you _bastard._You don't _dare!"_

"If you hadn't gotten him involved, I wouldn't have been ordered to kill him, idiot!" Envy screamed back, gripping his scalp as Edward snatched a handful of the Sin's brackish hair and wrenched his head over – smashing into the floor. Another cry of frustration and pain escaped the Homuculus' lips and he scraped his fingers against the wooden boards, trying to push away. "Stop it,jerkoff – that hurts!"

"You didn't think about that at the time though, did you," Edward asked, tugging Envy's head back so his bloodied face was staring up at him. The Shape shifter looked pretty awful – a cut had opened over his left temple and was bleeding freely, as was his nose and his cheek was turning a bright shade of crimson. "You didn't think how much it would hurt to kill someone. Not just the person who dies – but everyone around them. You killed Hughes and that devastated his family, his friends..."

Edward shook his head, tightening his fingers in the Homunculus' hair.

"You hurt me – I'll admit that." He continued. "You got me there. But see how it comes back around? Now I'm hurting _you__ –_all because of what you did. Funny, isn't it?"

Envy made a growling noise that indicated although he didn't think the fact was particularly _funny,_he thought it particularly _something._Edward clipped him again, hard across the side of his face, knocking him over. Then, almost lazily, he flicked the Sin's jaw up with the toe of his Automail foot and pressed down, ruthlessly, onto his neck. Envy gasped, staring up into Edward's eerily blank expression and squirmed as the cold metal squeezed his trachea.

_"You...kill__me,__you__kill...__the__little__shit...__remember?"_ He managed to hiss through welded teeth. The Alchemist narrowed his eyes.

"Maybe that's how it should be," He whispered, a dangerous tone smoothing over his voice like oil and as the violet eyes widened in surprise he planted his heel in the Sin's chest and shoved him back against the bedside table. Envy's thin shoulder blades smacked against the sharp, unforgiving wood and he retracted automatically into a fetal position, crossing his arms over his collarbone to grip the abused flesh.

Edward tilted his head, glaring coldly down his nose at the Homunculus.

"But I'm not like you. I don't fix things by killing them. You think you're better than me? You're wrong. Any idiot can hold a gun or a knife – but not everyone can turn one away. Now I really don't give a shit what you think of me – I can pretty much guess. But remember, this is all _your_doing and it's all _your_fault. If you don't manage to survive after... afterwards... you can rest assured that I won't be shedding any tears." The Alchemist gave Envy one last, disgusted look before he turned to leave the room.

"In fact," He added, pausing at the door – one hand resting on the frame. "I doubt anyone will."

Envy coughed dustily a couple of times – watching through watery eyes as the blond left the room. Swearing softly he leaned over onto all fours then took a deep breath and pushed himself up onto his feet. Dizziness blasted over him and he gasped as a raw lance of pain shot through his middle.

"S-stop it," He muttered weakly to himself as the painslowly lessened, but persisted in prowling around in the pit of his stomach – waiting for another chance to bite again. His limbs felt oddly numb and cold and a rather distant thought at the back of his mind informed him that such a sensation usually occurred when a person was losing a considerable amount of blood.

Carefully, he edged over to the bed and eased his body down onto the covers, wondering exactly what would happen from here. This first time that Edward had shown the full, bitter force of his rage and Envy had to admit, the kid was pretty severe. It might possibly still be a good idea if he _did_escape – just to get away from the bastard and prove to Edward that a Homunculus doesn't live by anyone's rules. There was _no__way_he was going to cower at Edward's primitive threats.

And to take the baby away from him – oh wouldn't that make him _pissed!_

But the pain came again, rudely derailing his train of thought as it ripped a burning track through his middle and Envy shuddered as he curled up once again on the bed, crushing his arms into his stomach – a groan rolling about in his throat.

He'd leave...He'd leave when he could. Yet right now was not the time. The Sin caught his breath as his other senses had moved back in light of the hurt and heat fuzzed an alabaster haze in his belly like a growing storm. No, now was probably the _worst_time to go off and pretend he knew how to take care of himself.

Now things seemed to be taking a dark turn – Envy could feel it.

Something was wrong.

Edward stormed back into his room and threw himself onto his bed – pressing his face hard into the thin, lumpy pillow. Fury surged through his veins - his mind stubbornly refusing to stem the torrent .

Damn that bastard. Damn that arrogant _fucking_ bastard.

He'd killed Hughes. He _really_had killed him. Not that Edward had any doubt that the Shape shifter was guilty – he just couldn't believe he'd stood there and let that greasy, smile saunter over Envy's face as he confessed to it.

Bragged about it. He'd _enjoyed_it. That sick freak.

Edward closed his eyes and tried to erase the scene from his head. Though his knuckles still throbbed from where he'd struck the Sin and his breath was restricted to brisk, clipped huffs as the adrenalin quickened the surge of blood in his veins he still did not feel justified.

Not yet, not _quite_. Envy may be experiencing a select variety of human complaints, but pain was one he hadn't quite tasted to the degree which would appease the Alchemist. A few bruises weren't going get the message across – no matter how hard he hammered them into the Sin's skull.

He could've killed him, but there was the child to consider. And _then_what would he have achieved? Envy probably would have expected it – he almost challenged him to do it – but Edward wasn't prepared to add further proof to the fact that he had a curse for hurting those who came close to him. He wasn't going to let Envy be _right._

Edward wanted him to hurt and not just physically – he needed to see it, to have it burn his soul. Or at least the Homunculus equivalent of a mortal's spiritual makeup.

He'd seen hell a long time ago – had been scarred by the terrible fingers of the Gate when he was very young but the images had branded themselves in his mind and were as raw four years later as they had been they day had attempted their catastrophic experiment. Being a creation of the gate, himself, Edward was fairly sure the Shape shifter had experienced a degree of horrific events himself and to truly make him feel as Edward did, he just needed to be reminded of them.

Nobody usually prays to hell, but Edward found himself silently begging to something otherworldly – dark and seething – that Envy would remember. That fear would finally penetrate those cold, violet eyes – comprehension twisting that leer into a scream as the Sin tasted the bitter edge of mortality.

_Serves you right, you bastard._

The Alchemist rolled over onto his side and let his exhaustion guide him into a deep soothing sleep – where his loss became less of a knifelike pain in his heart as he fumbled with the notion of acceptance and his soul strengthened in the hazy depths of sleep.

It was much later when he came to – his ears full of a strange noise that had nudged his brain into consciousness – and long, blurred shadows reached into the room, smudging out details as they thinned the light. Edward batted blearily at the small bedside table for his pocket watch and massaged his temples as he scrutinizing the positions of the silver hands. He was surprised to find he'd been out for nearly five hours.

Yawning, Edward eased himself into a sitting position and scratched wearily beneath his thick braid. The fair would be over soon, then there'd be the fireworks then Izumi, Al and Winry would probably come home – exhausted and happy and full of stories about their day.

Good. Edward felt he needed the company. He'd rested off the edge of his initial anger, but he still needed something to fill the emptiness that had currently settled itself in his chest.

That and, Edward blushed as his stomach gurgled loudly, something to fill his belly. He hadn't had a thing since the early breakfast on the train. And even then, the waffles hadn't been particularly good. He'd been cursed with a temporary bad taste coating his mouth - though that was understandable with the thoughts he'd been chewing over all night. He got off the bed and ambled stiffly over to the door when another noise from down the hallway made him startled him.

There it was again, that sound. He'd thought he'd heard something before but he'd passed it off as a cat of a bird or simply just the grunt of his own breath upon waking.

But now he listened with mounting trepidation as a long, wavering groan cut through the silence of the house, ending with a quiet whimper - then began again a few seconds later, somewhat more urgently than the first.

Edward frowned and turned away from the stairs, his strange footsteps echoing in the dark hall as he padded up to Envy's room. He stood still in hushed caution - listening as the groan wavered then petered out again to be replaced with soft shuffling noises as the Sin moved about on his bed restlessly.

_What__the__hell?_Ed thought as he tentatively pushed the door open.

And froze.

Envy was hunched over his knees in the centre of his small bunk – one clutched tightly around his middle, the other stretched forward in front of him, twisting a handful of blankets in his fist. His head was bowed over and his long hair – free from its usual tie – fell in damp, stringy tendrils over his face. He'd been ill somewhere – the acrid scent of bile attacked Edward's nostrils, making made his eyes water – and from the way his gaunt form trembled beneath the heavy folds of his T-shirt, he seemed to be in considerable pain.

Edward's frown deepened.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, unable to keep the surly tone from his voice as he warily edged closer to the bed. Envy did not reply, his reaction only a spasmodic clench of the blankets in his fist – a tense jerk of his shoulders as another soft cry issued from his throat. His breathing was heavy and uneven and drew in sharply as it snagged on another wave of pain.

"Hey!" The Alchemist snapped, gripping the Shape shifter's bony upper arm – giving it a rough shake. "I asked you-"

A weak, rusty wail interrupted him and Edward swallowed hard as he watched the muscles of Envy's back contract and strain as he fought against what seemed to be some kind of convulsion. His breath had become a Morse code of snipped staccato gasps and again he knotted the blankets in his shaking grip – as though trying to transfer some of the hurt into them while the pain jolted ruthlessly through his body.

His skin, which had lost its colour completely, was coated in a heavy sweat – laminating his black shirt against his spine. Feverish heat radiated from his form in humid waves and the sparse muscles twitched beneath Edward's fingers with the expectance of another seizure. Slowly, trying hard not to let his heart escape between his teeth, Edward knelt down onto the end of the bed and reached under the mass of sweat-sodden hair to draw Envy's face up.

"Hey...Wha-" He wasn't even able to finish, only gasped as he looked into the Sin's weeping, tear-glossed eyes that were dark and unfocussed with pain. Sweat dribbled from under his damp headband - tinged pink with the blood from the cut over his eye that Envy hadn't bothered to dress - and his cheekbone had finally blossomed a nasty bruise – the wicked shade of purple contrasting harshly with the bloodless pallor of his face.

Although Edward wasn't sure if Envy realized he'd entered the room, the Sin's mouth seemed to move a couple of times as he tried to form words over the soft, broken moans which were now continually rolling past his dry, chapped lips. Then, as Edward tried to ask him again what was wrong – what was hurting – the Shape shifter lunged forward - butting his head against the Alchemist's chest and dug his fingers into the material of his tank top.

"H-_hurts!"_He cried – his voice gritty and hoarse. "S-stop it!"

And he doubled over again, straining into a tight mewling ball of agonized groans against Edwards ribcage. A chilled lump of icy apprehension dropped in the Alchemist's stomach and fizzed through his veins - the word 'miscarriage' creeping into his mind in peeling, bloodied script.

_Maybe that's how it should be..._

Edward's breath trembled as his brain stumbled backwards over the events of the 'chat' – pausing at the part where Edward had let his fury fly through his fists as he pummeled the helpless Sin into the floorboards.

And he _had_been helpless, hadn't he? He'd never once fought back – even his scathing words seemed to have been lacking their usual venom. Either that or Edward had just been too lost in his rage to notice. Envy hadn't hurt Edward. No, the cuts had been made long before when Hughes had fallen. And although Edward was feeling their burn now, to the Shape shifter it was all ancient history. He'd forgotten. It was no longer important. Yet to interrogate the Shape shifter as he had done – to re-iterate the truth in hindsight - the Alchemist was only twisting the knife himself.

_Masochist...Masochist turned Sadist... You really are cursed, aren't you?_

God, what if he'd hurt the baby? What if he'd killed it? What if the beating he'd given the Sin had somehow thrown his body into shock – causing damage to the unborn child? He'd read in the medical journal he'd acquired from the train that miscarriages could occur if an expectant woman suffers a trauma or a fall or possibly a blow to the stomach but the danger was only in the very early stages of pregnancy. Surely if the child had survived the brunt of Envy's illness all those months ago the little fall from the bed wasn't going to hurt it.

And he'd made sure not to hit any lower than Envy's collarbone. At least he thought he had – he was too angry at the time to really be sure. What if... What if...

A loud explosion from somewhere outside shattered the unanswered 'What if's' that had built up like a wall of unease in Edward's mind - heralding the beginning of the fireworks display in town. Looking up toward the window, the Alchemist watched with mounting fear as the shards of gaudy coloured light embroidered the sky like intricate, choreographed rain.

This was bad. He'd been thinking of possibly leaving Envy alone for a moment while he sought aid from Izumi but with all the people in town it would be much harder to find her. Even if she'd said they'd all be going up the hill, he didn't know exactly where they would be. He'd considered even going to the hospital to try and find Izumi's doctor, but was that really the right thing to do? They hadn't consulted him before and even though he was familiar with Izumi's odd physical condition, there may have been a reason she hadn't confided in him.

A sudden thin scream from the ailing Sin saw Edward's arms wrapping about Envy's shaking shoulders while the Alchemist fought his crippling indecision to try and remain calm. The display wouldn't last long, people surely couldn't stay entertained by coloured lights for more than twenty minutes. Half an hour at best. He only hoped the Curtis' didn't decide to take Pinako to the pub for a drink afterwards – but then they didn't say they were going to. And they had Al and Winry with them. Al would probably want to go straight home to check that he hadn't wrung Envy's neck by now.

But it was hard to keep such composure when the Shape shifter's condition was deteriorating so rapidly. His thin ribs pumped like bellows with sharp, shallow gasps and by now the low moans had evolved into high, straining screams as Envy seemed to be torn apart form the inside. He pawed hopelessly at Edward's shirt, his face wet against the blond's chest and when he clenched the material tightly as his body seized up in distress for what appeared to be the millionth time – Edward heard a seam rip.

Once again, he was horribly aware of the time passing and he bit his lip as he waited, the moments plodding by as though they had suffered some kind of timeshift amnesia and had convinced themselves that they were hours. The room had turned hot and stifling and though Edward yearned to open a window, he did not want to leave the Sin's side nor encourage an intervention from a curious passer-by. Not that anyone would have heard anyway, Envy had screamed so much by now his voice was hoarse and the loud explosions of gunpowder outside covered over most of the noise.

But still, though he hated the fact that all he could do was watch as the Shape shifter suffered, Edward knew that he could not move away. Envy was clinging to him as though his life depended on it – and for all Edward knew, it might. The Alchemist had tried several times to speak to him, but it was obvious that Envy no longer understood what was being said - only gripped fiercely at his sides as the relentless pain shook his form with the convulsions that had rapidly grown in strength and number.

A metallic smell – something like blood – had seeping into the room and though Edward had tried to examine the Homunculus for any signs of bleeding, Envy had not let him push away. His face was pressed so tightly against Ed's chest he could feel the Sin's mouth curve into another wail and a warm wetness dampen the front of his tank top as more tears sprung from the violet eyes.

Finally, after what seemed like a tightrope eternity, Edward heard the latch of the kitchen door click and without even hesitating to consider who had come through it, yelled for Izumi. There was a moment of bewildered silence before the familiar flip-flop footsteps thundered up the stairs and the dread-locked woman burst into the room.

"Edward!" She paused a moment, assessing the situation. "What... Is he alright?"

"I don't know!" Edward cried helplessly, trying to crane around to see the expression on the woman's face. "He just started -"

The Alchemist was interrupted as a tremendous scream erupted from Envy's throat and he wrenching his head back – his face contorted with agony and glistening with a film of mingled tears and sweat. Izumi's eyes widened.

"Shigu!" She yelled down the stairs, not once taking looking away from the Sin. "Emergency! Get Christopher, _now!_"

She was answered by a brusque grunt of affirmation and the kitchen door slammed closed as the man bolted out the house as fast as his Herculean form would let him. More footsteps sounded on the stairs and stopped short outside the room.

"Wha-what's happening?" Al whimpered from the doorway. Winry stood beside him, her face pale with confused shock.

"You two," Izumi waved an arm vaguely at the pair in the hall. "Hot water, towels...plenty of towels. _Go!"_she added as they hesitated, dazed.

"Nii-san?"

"Just go, Al!" Edward barked – a little more gruffly than he'd meant to. The tension that had been building slowly in the atmosphere of the room was coming to a head and uneasiness trickled down the Alchemist's spine as he swore he could hear the faint sound of a heartbeat echoing off the thin walls.

"What is it, Sensei?" Edward asked as the woman moved closer to the bed, a concerned frown creasing her brow. "Do you know?"

Izumi shook her dark head – dreadlocks swaying with the movement. Her hands dancing nervously about Envy's form before they rested on his back and he moaned noisily, shuddering at her touch.

"I couldn't say. Not to point out the obvious, but I haven't exactly had any practice with _this_type of pregnancy before. It looks like labor, it _sounds_like labor – but if he's progressing as a normal woman would then this far too early – he couldn't be ready."

"Could it be...a miscarriage?" Edward gulped.

Izumi shot him a dark look, but shook her head again, closing her eyes as though trying to channel some sort of answer from Envy's writhing body.

"Too late for that... But the child seems to be moving." She slid her hand round the Sin's back to his middle. "In fact, he doesn't appear to be in any distress at all."

"The baby's...alright?" Ed asked, incredulously. "H-how? What's wrong with Envy then?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. Or more importantly, how long has he been bleeding?"

"He'd _bleeding?"_

Izumi nodded – holding up a hand that was stained red and sticky with blood.

"F-from where?" Edward asked, weakly. So his nose hadn't been lying. But was it from the injuries he'd caused? Or was it...

"Where do you _think?"_The woman snapped, her hand returning to the Sin's trembling shoulder blade. "Seems like his body is making other...alterations. I was wondering what would happen when it came to that. Hopefully, this won't turn life-threatening and although I know it's hurting him, it may be over soon. We should get him to lie down, though – stop him losing all this bl-"

The woman was cut off as another piercing scream tore from Envy's curled lips and the tension in his body strained to an agonizing degree before it fled suddenly – the strength the pain had given the Sin evaporating on a final powerful exhale. Envy wilted against Edward's chest, panting as his body flinched in the last throes of the seizure.

"Is it over?" Edward's voice shook with concern as he gently ran his fingers through the Sin's sweat-soaked hair, trying to calm the shaking body beneath him. When Izumi didn't answer, he looked up curiously. And gasped as he caught sight of her face.

Horror, absolute horror contorted her features – her eyes bulged and her lower lip shiveredin shock.

"E-edward," She stuttered, her gaze glued to the covers. Her hand flew over her mouth.

Ed tightened his jaw and leaned backwards, letting the Sin slowly slip down the front of his body as he tentatively climbed off the bed. The sound of the heartbeat still throbbed in his ears, but although he was fairly sure it was just his own – pounding with apprehensive fear – it seemed very detached and alien. He straightened as his feet hit the floor, lowering Envy's shoulders onto the mattress and froze as he glimpsed at the horrible image in front of him.

There was blood all right – and lots of it. It covered most of the blankets in a dark, oily stain of crimson and scented the air with a sickly combination of salt and metal. Trying to contain his nausea for the second time that evening, Edward's eyes scanned over the mess – growing wider when he saw what lay in the _middle_ of it, between Envy's blood-slicked thighs.

He let out a strangled gasp as bile shot into his throat, choking him with its bitter palate.

"What..._What__the__fuck__is__that?"_

Suddenly aware of the noise around him, Envy shifted weakly on the covers, his mind reeling with the loss of blood and the memory of excruciating pain. Dazedly, he raised his head and when he saw Edward in front of him, batted sluggishly at his sodden tank top in order to get some kind of attention. He hurt – he hurt all over yet he couldn't comprehend exactly _why._When Edward showed no sign of reacting, Envy left him alone and concentrated on pushing himself onto his elbows. His legs felt wet and oddly sticky. Weird. Did he have that dream again? And what was that strange hollow thudding sound?

The Sin moved again and began twist his body around to look behind him when Izumi finally shook herself from her trance and lunged forward quickly, grabbing his shoulder.

"No!" She cried frantically. "Don't look! _You__shouldn't__see!"_

But it was too late.

Envy's breath hitched in his throat, and then...

The scream that coated the room in frightened decibels continued long after Envy's body had frozen in catatonic shock – his pupils retracted into tiny dots within the red-etched surface of his eyes. The ghostly heartbeat pumped a few more times before it slowed, then stopped.

And all was silent.


	9. Surreality

_**Disclaimer: FMA is owned by someone richer than me XD**_

**Dark Humor**

_Chapter 9: Surreality_

It was real beneath his hands, the kitchen table.

Palpable, dense; the solid bulk spread before him in an almost _factual_way and seemed worn, smooth and comforting beneath his fingertips

He'd never really paid much attention to the piece of furniture, it was just a table after all. But now it had transformed into an object of reassurance, a security blanket, a piece of undeniably _evident_reality.

Though his hands were shaking on its surface, it was there, tangible.

It was, _there._

If anything, Edward needed things to be real. To be There. The table was, as was the light and the heat of the stuffy summer evening. Al was definitely there – he could tell by the way the muffled silence of the room kept mewling:

"Nii-san?"

...every now and again in a small, rabbity voice.

His brother was there. Sitting at the table. So was Izumi. Pinako. Shigu and Winry. Mason _wasn't_ – but then again he'd probably gone off to the pub as usual, so he didn't really matter at this point in time. That left one more to be accounted for.

Himself .

Now Edward was fairly sure he was present with the others about the table. His body was there; the hard chair was hurting his ass - though he'd been sitting on it for so long he was convinced it had actually become part of it like some sort of furniture-chimera. The cup that sat by his left hand, still full of the tea he hadn't drunk, was giving off a faint heat. That was there too.

But his mind was another thing entirely. Though his gaze studied the fingerprint pattern of the heavy wood tabletop intently, his mind was away in another room.

Still with Envy.

Still watching the blood creep across the sheets, invading over the spotless white like a savage army.

Still catching the dull scent in the air.

Still cringing with the twisting peaks of Envy's cries.

Still wondering what it was _exactly_that he had seen.

And why a strange nagging thought tugged on the back of his brain stem, told him he'd seen it before.

The kitchen clock raised its hands to the heavens and as midnight entered the room, so did Dr Warner; wiping his large, skillful fingers on a ragged piece of cloth. Izumi looked up for wherever her gaze had been wandering and clasped her knuckles nervously.

"How is he?"

"He's lost a lot of blood, but the bleeding has stopped now." Warner took off his glasses and went to wipe them on the crimson-stained cloth, then decided against it and polished them on his shirttail instead. "Normally I would have suggested a transfusion, but his pulse has stabilized quite quickly. It's weak, but it's stable."

"And the baby?"

"Just fine," the doctor shook his head. "It's quite unbelievable that the boy himself could go through so much trauma and yet the fetus is completely unaffected. Oblivious, I think is possibly a better word."

There was a strange gusty noise in the room as everyone let out a breath at the same time.

"However," Warner continued, leaning against a corner of the table. "He's gone into shock and that's where things might get complicated. The mental stress itself from such an ordeal is enough to send him into a coma and that's _not_going to do him any good in his condition."

"What would happen to the baby if he did?" Al asked in a small voice. "Would it die?"

"A pregnancy can continue quite successfully if a comatose victim is treated with care. It's not _ideal,_but it can happen." Warner nodded gently in the metal boy's direction. "A fellow surgeon in Central once monitored a pregnant woman who'd suffered head injuries in a car accident and had fallen into a coma. She recovered physically during the last four months of her final trimester."

"Well that's a relief, I-"

"However after the birth she mysteriously passed away."

Something cold and fearful shot through Edward's system and his steel fingers retracted into a fist with a crusty scrape of the wood beneath them. Doctor Warner rubbed the back of his neck, tiredly.

"We can only hope that won't happen to...uhh.."

"Envy," Izumi prompted, mechanically.

"Envy, thank you. But you must understand there isn't much else I can do. Rest, as simple as it is, tends to be the best medicine. We'll just have to let him be for now. Keep him warm, keep an eye on him, but don't disturb him. I'll be back in the morning and if his condition hasn't changed I'll start him on some intravenous fluids."

He huffed and stood up, unrolling the sleeves of his shirt, which were dotted here and there with bright patches of blood. Izumi followed suit, collecting his overcoat from where he'd thrown it on a stool by the door.

"I can't thank you enough, Christopher. I know I can trust you with-"

"Izumi, how many years have I been treating you? If I had meant to sell information to the military I would have done it a long time ago!" Warner laughed. "The boy's condition is safe with me. I think it'll be a reward in itself if we can help him pull through it alive."

"I know," she replied quietly. "There have been too many deaths in this house already."

The man patted her shoulder kindly, then stepped out into the night. Izumi sighed as she pushed the door closed, turning around and leaning her back against the hard surface for support.

"I think some things need to be explained."

"I think they do," agreed Pinako.

"Where should I start?"

There was a squeak as blunt wood grazed against tile and Edward wordlessly stood up and left the room.

"Perhaps," the old woman's eyes glinted mischievously as she chewed on the end of the pipe. "You should confirm who the father is. Though I think I have a rough estimate."

_The blood had been real, coating his hands._

_Thick, opaque and horribly mesmerizing. Not red, not simply red. No. A mixture of other tones – red, brown, orange, purple – that made it seem intoxicatingly solid. Smelt like copper, salt – sweet and pungent at the same time._

_It was there, all that blood._

_It had been real._

_Envy's scream; the ear shattering, heart piercing, soul clenching scream. The one that seemed to be comprised of hundreds of emotions stretched into one long, wavering sound. That bit at your balls and made your heart bungy into your feet._

_Envy's scream._

_Well, that had been pretty real too._

_Reality__was__something__the__Alchemist__hadn't__figured__out__yet.__He'd__always__thought__it__to__be__very__serious__and__sensible__ – __the__blue-collar__aspect__of__being.__Although,__after__enduring__such__an__interesting__collection__of__events__over__his__young__life,__Edward__found__his__reasoning__had__been__subject__to__change.__He__sometimes__even__got__the__feeling__that,__when__he__was__in__the__process__of__creation,__somebody__had__put__reality__on__the_inside _of__his__brain__while__his__imagination__ran__rampant__in__the__world._

_But perhaps reality wasn't as unshakeable as it appeared. Perhaps it could become more of a state of mind rather than absolute consciousness._

_However, why would he ask his mind to conjure up an image as awful as what had been in the room that night? He'd wanted the Sin to pay, that was certain. And the horror of Envy's doing was far above anything an apology could fix - the kind of currency Edward asked for was the metaphysical coin of fear sitting brightly in the core of Envy's eyes._

_Just fear, plain and simple. Repentance, possibly._

_But__not__pain.__Not__pain__like_that. Never_like__that._

_When__Envy's__body__crumpled__onto__the__sodden__blankets,__his__eyes__wide__and__his__mouth__frozen__on__the__note__of__that__scream,__Edward__felt__his__hate__and__rage__fly__backwards_, _caught__by__the__sheer__torrent__of__other__thoughts__that__span_ _a__chilling__maelstrom__of__fear__in__his__mind.__Yet__even__the__whirlwind__of__images__in__his__head__was__not__as__frightening__as__what__he'd__seen__in__front__of__him._

_Sick._

_An undulating pile of slimy, slicked, inside-out filth; all trembling sinew and fleshy pink and purple. Blood vessels channelled across it in lacy ropes and small particles of bone jutted out painfully here and there. It was a fistful of raw, pulsating human material, disgusting in all manners of the word, but hideous and creepy at the same time._

_Hypnotic. Revolting. But why did it seem familiar?_

_It trembled as the heady air of the room touched it. Gravity, one of the Real World's favourite tools, fell upon it like a lead weight and it let out a piteous, waving mewl – though, like the heartbeat, Edward wasn't sure if it really did make a sound or his brain was playing hide the reality again._

_He'd had this feeling before. Why did déjà vu keep insisting in its muffled, hazy tongue that he'd seen this thing before? His recollective memory just wouldn't work as his conscious mind battled with shock and the overwhelming desire to vomit._

_Something that could have been an arm but wasn't reached towards him from the sticky, whining globule. There were fingers, but no hand, and the digits ran up the small trunk of flesh like branches – dotted here and there with strange, translucent scales that could have possibly been trying to become fingernails. The rest of the thing shuddered again, bleated again and wept blood and mucus like sweat. Edward's mouth juddered with stillborn words that could not find their sentences._

_It was then that Izumi sparked into life._

_Slowly, as though she had been waiting for her sanity to build up to a degree where she could start functioning again, she shifted closer to the bed and bent over to scoop the heap into the bottom of her shirt. Blood seeped quickly through the pretty lilac cotton, staining it with the dark grease of shed life, and dripped languidly onto the floorboards as she shuffled dazedly to the wastepaper bin near the desk - her movements almost tattooed on the space around her. With a grimace she crouched down and rather unceremoniously dumped the creature into the metal pail._

_She had turned to Ed, to say something but was interrupted by more sounds from outside the door. Footsteps, a gasp, a short scream and a clatter of broken china._

_Al and Winry had appeared at the doorway and at the shock of seeing the blood on the bed, on the floor and on Izumi, Al had dropped the bowl of requested water. Winry cringed when the hot liquid stung her ankle, but she was just as transfixed to the scene as Al. Horrified. Confused. Izumi hurriedly wrenched the towels from their shaking hands and ordered them to wait downstairs for the doctor._

_Then, as her midwife mind clicked into gear, she had gently eased the Homunculus over so he was lying on his back and rolled a couple of towels into a bolster cushion and wedged it beneath his hips – raising them slightly. Another towel she folded up even smaller and placed it between his thighs, squeezing his knees together._

_She was trying to stop the bleeding. She was acting. Helping._

_Edward had only watch in horrified fascination, wondering how on earth she could actually think after witnessing such a horrible event._

_The woman had looked over at him again; tried to talk to him again. Rubbed his shoulder in a motherly way. But her words of comfort and reassurance could not be heard over the scream that had still been reverberating in Edward's ears._

_Sighing, she had given up and went back to tending Envy, gently massaging his skin to try and pull a reaction from it. She stroked his sweat-sodden hair, said his name over and over again. But he was the same, no movement, no acknowledgement._

_He simply stared blankly into space._

_And Edward, who had been gazing just as hopelessly at the prone Homunculus, closed his eyes and said the word that had been sitting on his lips like an express delivery from his still undisclosed conscious._

_The world faltered again._

Now the room had been changed, cleaned and re-assembled.

Tidied up in effort to forget the horror. As though wiping the slate of memory in one's mind was as easy as wiping up a pool of blood.

Humans needed fantasy to be human, but reality was sanity and they needed that just the same.

Envy lay right side up on the bed, his head on a thin pillow, clean sheets above and below him; arms resting by his sides. It could have been that he was simply sleeping, but his eyes were cracked open, fringed by his thick wet lashes and were gazing hollowly into nothingness. His lips were slightly parted and had dried and cracked a little. Despite the heat of the room, they were bruised a slightly blue tinge while the rest of his countenance was translucent and brittle as powdered dry wood.

Edward absorbed the scene with distrustful eyes.

_No._

Envy wasn't like this. He wasn't _supposed_to be like this. Not lying still, not quiet, not sick or affected. The Homunculus was loud, horrible and bitter. The Homunculus wouldn't have let Edward sit so quietly beside it, clasping despondently at the blankets. The Homunculus would have beaten him off, laughed at him, thrown a jetsam of ammunition his way.

Envy was a Homunculus.

Envy should have healed by now – should have been up and annoying the shit out of him long ago.

But Envy wasn't moving.

The ashen figure lay a bleached inverted shadow on the crisp linen – making even the thin sheet covering him seem bulky and cumbersome in comparison to his frail flesh. The brilliant violet eyes had dulled and faded and become some colour that had been washed too many times in hot water. Black oval pupils had swelled and dilated – eclipsing what sparse tone was left in tombstone obsidian.

Edward closed his eyes forlornly – golden irises like a sunset on his face as his expression fell into shadow. The whole scene reeked with melancholy and hopelessness. And it was all his fault. After all, hadn't he been the one wishing Envy would get a taste of true pain? He'd wanted to see Envy suffer – he couldn't deny that. It was just that in his rage he might have overdone it – wished too hard. What Envy had gone through...well, it had scared even the Alchemist himself.

Funny how what goes around comes around.

The blond stared at his hands; hands that had been ready, willing no, eager to hit. To hurt. How could he have done such a thing? Envy was _pregnant_ for God's sake, he was carrying a child. His child, if that wasn't terrible enough already. Edward would_never_ have done that to an ordinary woman. In fact he'd been too scared to even _touch_ Gracia when she'd been pregnant with her daughter. Why had Envy been different?

Because he wasn't human?

Because he'd killed Hughes?

Because up until now the baby just hadn't been very real for either of them.

Ah, yes. The baby.

It was there, well, Izumi said it was there and in all physical aspects it _was,_ but up until now it had been nothing but a swell in Envy's stomach that Edward used as a brunt of the insults toward him. It was just a thing they talked about, something that was going to happen, but hadn't. An expectation. A result. It wasn't a baby, not a soft, cuddly, silky thing - but an idea, a figment.

He sighed, defeated as he looked over Envy's prone form again – not exactly regretting his anger, but not wanting to suffer the consequences of it either. Guilt plastered white sheets of Bad Vibes over his nerves.

_Do__something._ He willed silently. _Anything__ – __just_something_.__Blink,__twitch,__move__your__hands__or__your__fingers__ – __just__do__something.__Let__me__know__you're__alright.__Let__me__know__it__wasn't__me_.

Tentatively, because he wasn't sure if he really wanted to or if it was remorse forcing him, Edward closed his hand around Envy's thin fingers and gently pulled them closer to his chest. Gently, the Alchemist massaged the joints in studied silence - considering how strange it was the Homunculus' hands were so thin and fragile, so like a human's, but then so powerful and capable of destruction and death.

These hands.

These killing hands.

What would they do when presented with a baby?

Edward looked about the room distractedly, again not wanting to leave Envy's side but desperate for something else to concentrate on for a few moments. The Sin's chamber was painfully bare, almost starved of life. If Envy hadn't been lying on the bed at this very moment, it would've been easy to think that it had never been used. But there had to be something, something else in here that Edward could at least look at for awhile as he sat in persistent vigil by the comatose Homunculus. Hadn't Izumi mentioned he'd been reading?

The Alchemist scanned the room again, fretfully, his gaze meandering over the desk, the stool, the bed before it finally came to rest on the little drawer in the bedside table. Letting go of Envy's hand, Edward walked around the bed and slid the drawer open slowly.

There was a book inside. Edward almost let out a sort of braying snort of relief. It wasn't salvation. It wasn't the Shroud of Turin. It wasn't The Truth sitting cross-legged on a throw rug, smoking a cigarette and saying:

_Man,__you__wouldn't_believe_the__trip__I've__had!_

It was a book.

Well, that was _something_.

But when Edward picked it up to read the cover, he was more than a little surprised to see his very own 12-year-old's script staggering clumsily across the tatty, peeling label. And as he studied a small piece of notepad that had slipped from its pages, containing an unfamiliar style of writing that was just as messy and unsure yet seemed older and slightly less frantic, a horrible comprehension stretched his features.

_Revised Alchemy Notes of Edward and Alphonse Elric - Human Transmutation._

Human Transmutation.

Their book on Human Transmutation. The final, qualified notes. The ones that had _worked._ Well, 'worked' to a degree, anyway. Hadn't he hidden this? Hadn't he stored it away when they'd left Izumi's for the first time? Edward and Al didn't needed the book once they'd finally been able to sort the array and the ingredients out for themselves, but they thought they may as well save the notes just in case either of them ever needed them but had forgotten how the process went.

But to find it here. In Envy's room. And after what he'd seen...did that prove...

Edward's eyes widened, his mouth dropping in realization. He hadn't done this to Envy. The bastard had done it to _himself._ He'd performed Body Alchemy just as the brothers had four years ago and of course, following the same tragic pattern, it had ended badly. That thing... That awful thing, that had been a _Homunculus._ It was a Homunculus! Of course he'd seen it before!

Edward shook his head, trying to break form his flabbergasted trance. It had been smaller, weaker, but that's what it was. How Envy had been able to do it was another matter entirely. The reality, if he could be so bold as to call it that, was that he _had_done it. Only rather than having it appear from the gate in the familiar way Edward knew, it had, for some reason, crawled out of his body as though it had thought it was being _born._

Nausea slithered about his tonsils, but Edward ignored it, currently focusing on the digestion of his find. The pieces were beginning to fit together – or at least he'd found the metaphorical scissors and glue and was _making_ them fit.

So far he knew:

Envy hated the baby. Envy had_always_ despised the baby – that made sense since it was his mistake yet somehow he had been made to see it out even though he clearly didn't want to.

Envy couldn't kill the baby – it seemed that someone at some point had forbidden it as he'd never made a move to do any physical damage. Nor had his fellow Homunculi, who had strangely decided to abandon him for reasons Edward couldn't even hazard a guess.

And Envy couldn't kill _himself._ Edward doubted he wanted to anyway.

But:

Envy knew about Human Transmutation. He must – he was a product of it after all. Edward wasn't sure when, how or _why_ Envy had been created as a Homunculus, but the fact remained that he was one and therefore must have a fairly good idea of the process.

Envy would then know that Body Alchemy transfers an object from one thing into another. It doesn't kill, it simply removes and replaces. Changes. So that would tidily rule out any blame for death on his part.

Envy asked about using Alchemy. He'd actually sat at the kitchen table while Winry was blathering off about her Automail endeavors and _asked_ about using it. Of course Edward had not taken the question seriously as he'd never imagined anything like this could happen – but here it was, plain as day.

Well, a rather cloudy day. Maybe with a slight forecast of drizzle.

"You're crazy," He said softly to the lifeless form on the bed. "You're an absolute lunatic."

But Edward had to admit, despite his insanity he was quite brilliant as well. To be able to learn the process of Human Transmutation in just six short weeks and to have, if not successfully pulled it off (for who had anyway?), to have had at least summoned the gate, held such genius elements that the Alchemist himself felt jealously nip at his pride.

_Jealousy...Envy... Oh how silly! The good guy becomes the persona of the bad guy himself!_

Only he wondered - why the Homunculus? Why would that have been the result? In the few cases of Human Transmutation that he knew and from the sparse notes he'd come across, Body Alchemy was usually conducted to bring back a life that had been lost, not to give a life to the gate. He wasn't sure it could work that way and it _hadn't_ of course because Envy was still pregnant. But it must have taken something. It always took something. And in return, it had given something back.

Equivalent Trade. You can't get something from nothing – that wasn't how it worked.

Perhaps only Envy himself knew – maybe that was why he reacted as he had. Edward and Izumi had been shocked. Very shocked, horrified and sickened, but Envy had shut down completely. Obviously he had been expecting something else – but what? What had he been wanting that the gate had so viciously misinterpreted?

Edward tightened his jaw. He had to know. And the only way to find out would be to ask the Sin himself. And of course, Envy couldn't remain like this forever. It wasn't good for the child. It wasn't good for him.

And it wasn't good for Edward. Though his guilt had been alleviated somewhat, he was still strangely concerned, strangely responsible. After all, he had promised to look after the Sin. Even if he was a complete arsehole, he shouldn't be left like this. Edward tried shaking Envy. Tried talking to him. Danced around the room a bit making stupid faces. He called him names, insulted him – ridiculed his plight. Poked his tongue out, jumped on the bed.

But that wasn't it. Envy hadn't even twitched.

Edward sighed as he wracked his brain for some kind of answer. How was he supposed to do this? How do you wake someone who's just had the shock of their life – or _unlife_, so to speak? He clicked his tongue in annoyance and flapped the collar of his tank top. Possibly if this stupid room wasn't so hot he'd be able to think clearly. And if it didn't _stink_. If it didn't smell like... like...

Comprehension had dawned so often on Edward that night it felt almost physical – like the sun warming his skin itself.

The room. It _reeked_. Not just with disinfectant, mopped-up vomit, blood and sweat, but with fear and terror as well. Envy was still lying on the same bed that he had been when he'd given birth to the malformed homunculus. The room was the same, clean, but the same. Familiarity sat around it like dust as the smell of blood, both in physical scent and memory; permeated every single pore, every single aspect of the room.

Like a poltergeist it ghosted about the walls, peeling the paper from them and running clammy fingers up Edward's spine and he frowned. Reality was sanity, yet sanity could be affected so easily by the surrounding world that it was almost laughable. All you needed was a truly petrifying scene, a hope destroyed and a whole lot of blood and you were on your way to twisting someone's brain into a neat little pretzel of confusion. Throw in a bit of pain here and there and you might just make them scream as well.

Or pass out. Or just cease to be.

Then again, just as the endless gaping hole of space is covered from our eyes by a neat, blue reflection of the sea, reality can be stabilized again by basically covering something unpalatable with something we can recognize. Or, as Edward had demolished his childhood home in the flaming tongues of a great fire, by removing the evidence.

In layman's terms, the room was the problem.

The solution: remove Envy from the room.

Without really considering the consequences, Edward slipped one arm beneath Envy's shoulders – the other hooked under his knees as he folded the Sin into a cradling position – then straightened.

Now what?

What was one supposed to do with an unconscious Homunculus? Where exactly was he supposed to take him? Edward blanched a little in indecision before something else crossed his mind. Something that someone might have said to him once, or that he'd read, or that he just knew.

Edward inhaled deeply and strode out the room.

"But he's a boy."

"Yes... Well, sort of. He's a Homunculus in male form. He's a Shape shifter, that's how he was able to get pregnant. He seduced Edward as a woman to make fun of him and they...well, I'm sure you know what happened. And here he is now."

"But he's a _boy_."

Winry just didn't seem to want to get it. Izumi closed her eyes and exhaled patiently.

"I know, but just try and imagine he's a boy who can have a baby, alright?"

"Alright. I understand he's a Homunculus. I understand he's different from a human. And I understand that I really don't have much of a clue of what's inside of him. However –" Winry squeezed her face up thoughtfully. " - _because_ he's a boy I somehow doubt he's got any female parts to get pregnant with!"

Winry, despite her no-nonsense tone of voice was gripping a beaten enamel mug that had a few moments ago contained a very strong, very sweet cup of tea, with very tight, very white fingers. The entire group seated about the table had been given the same drink and had downed it like soul-medicine. Even Al had a warm cup in his hands – though he could only pretend to imagine the comfort it must produce.

"Well that's true. But like I said, Envy is a Shape shifter. That was his Homunculus ability. Like Wrath could use Alchemy, he could to change his body at will. Morph it. Change it around."

"Like...play dough?" Winry spat the comparison out as though she wasn't particularly happy with it but couldn't come up with anything better.

"Uhh, I suppose. Yes... Like play dough." Izumi winced at the awful analogy. Pinako barked a short laugh – making most of the solemn congregation jump.

"Trust a realist to come up with such a description," she grinned, chewing once again on the end of her pipe. Izumi had to hand it to her – nothing seemed to faze this woman. "But why doesn't he just turn into a woman and bear the child in a female body? Surely that would be more sensible than the one he's in now."

"It would," the Alchemist nodded, turning her cup about in her hands. "But somehow, somewhere along the line he's lost the ability. Edward said that he'd been told Envy was throwing up incomplete Philosopher's stones so I'm guessing this has something to do with it."

"Incomplete stones..." Pinako's eyes narrowed thoughtfully behind her round penny glasses. "Let me get this straight. So far we know from Edward and this 'Wrath' child you mentioned that the Homunculus are artificial humans that get created when Alchemists attempt Human Transmutation."

"That's right," Izumi replied slowly.

"And they were the ones who were running the experiments in the fifth laboratory. Which was, possibly the process of the stones?" Pinako glanced over at Alphonse who shrugged lightly.

"Mm, they were trying to make _the_ Philosopher's stone. I'm not sure about incomplete ones Lust said they used, but there was a lot of the red liquid around that we saw in Russel and Fletcher's laboratory. And at Doctor Marco's house. General Basque-Gran said _that_ was an incomplete stone."

"And one of the other Homunculi – Lust did you say? - said that the Philosopher's stones were part of their bodies..."

"Ye-es..."

"Well perhaps she meant the stones were the source of their power. And if he's been getting _rid_ of his power, then that would explain why he can't use it." Pinako removed the pipe from her mouth and tapped the tip against her bottom lip. "But why would his body do that?"

"It could be that he goes through a lot of changes when he shifts." Izumi scratched at her dreadlocks – the awkwardness of the unknown itching her skin. "He may not be built like a human as _such_ but he seems to have most of the vital innards – from what I could tell anyway. Maybe they get all tousled around when he morphs and since that probably isn't particularly good for the fetus his body took the necessary precautions to stop him doing it."

"Makes sense," Pinako shrugged. "But what came out of him? You said you thought it was Homunculus?"

"That's what it _looked_ like." The Alchemist raised her eyebrows. "But how that happened, I have no idea. Or why. It changed his form, even altered his clothing, so it could be born. And it was _born_, Pinako! Homunculi aren't humans, they don't get born!"

"They apparently don't get pregnant either." Pinako closed her eyes and fumbled in her pocket for her matchbox. "Guess we don't know as much as we think we do, hmm?"

Izumi shook her head, staring at the table. The others looked back into their mugs, blankly. Somewhere overhead a blast of water sounded.

"But then again," Added the old mechanic, puffing on her pipe leisurely. "Isn't that typical of us humans?"

Wash them away – that was what you did with Sins.

At least that's what the metaphor assured.

Edward just hoped that the shower would help clear the stench of blood from Envy's skin and give him some other sensations to think about rather than just the itchy blankets about his body and the heady scent of death from the air.

He hadn't bothered to undress. In his haste, the thought just hadn't crossed his mind. Nor had he taken any clothes from Envy; partly because it didn't seem particularly important to do so since his clothes needed washing anyway and partly because that wouldn't have been too right either. Who wants to wake up naked in front of their enemy?

_How__considerate_, Edward thought wryly of himself as he propped the Sin in the corner of the shower, supporting him with his Automail hand while he searched for a washcloth with the other. _He_ did_do__that__to__me..._

Finally, Ed located a flannel and, scrubbed it against a bar of soap that he'd had ready, gently began wiping over any exposed part of Envy's body that he could find. The shower drummed with the noise of the water hitting the tiled walls, lulling Edward into a light trance as he cleaned over the Shape shifter's skin.

It didn't feel so strange, touching Envy's flesh like this. It wasn't sexual – no, he wasn't caressing the Sin; more like almost mollycoddling him, tidying him up, making him feel better. He felt like it _should_ be done, like the sweeping or the dusting should be done. Like a child should be given medicine and wrapped up in warm blankets and fed chicken soup when he came home sniffling in the rain.

Edward clicked his tongue as he worked. Izumi had said she'd removed most of the mess, but she hadn't done a very good job of it. Dried blood smeared tracks around his thighs and calves and splattered about his ankles. It was crusted in his fingernails, glued in his hair – it had even gotten onto his neck somehow.

He moved forward a little, kneeling up over Envy's bowed head and started smoothing down the sodden brackish mane, noting the damp heat and the light scent of sweat in his hair as he did so. He'd leaned the Sin over so Envy's forehead rested on his collarbone, his eyelashes tickling the Alchemist's chest, and watched thin ribs rise and fall while he carefully sponged over the back of his neck.

Then, when that was clean, Edward gripped the protruding nubs of Envy's shoulders and pushed him up.

He'd moved.

_Moved?_

Edward sucked his bottom lip, blinking heavily against the spray of the shower. The dark eyes that had been cracked open and staring doll-like into nothing had closed. The Alchemist dragged a hand through his dripping blond bangs, melding them back into the rest of his hair, and lowered himself onto his haunches, so he was more or less face to face with the Sin. Encouragement surging through his veins, Edward slowly cupped one hand on the edge of Envy's jaw while the other began dabbing gently at his cheeks, his eyes glued to the Sin's face, watching intently for any other signs of life.

He wasn't disappointed.

After a few tense seconds, Envy's lips shuddered with a light moan and his eyelids flickered again, his brow creasing ever so slightly at the sensation of the water on his skin. Edward dropped the flannel and clamped his hand over the rise of Envy's shoulder, digging his thumb a little into the hard line of his clavicle – not to hurt but enough to make it uncomfortable enough so the Homunculus might react or attempt to squirm away.

"Hey," he whispered softly, forgetting that his voice was drowned out by the pummeling water. "Get a hold of yourself, Envy. Open your eyes."

The Sin quivered a few more times and his shoulder twitched under Edward's grip. The eyes were flickering even more now and the Alchemist could definitely hear some kind of mumbled words issuing from the Homunculus' lips.

"Hey," He repeated, more urgently this time. "Open your eyes, you bastard. _Open__them!"_

Edward barked the last part in the Sin's face and to his relief, Envy snapped to a rather drunken attention, his violet lasers blearily trying to focus on the blond's face.

_"Muh?"_ he questioned breathily, coughing weakly as some of the warm water invaded his mouth. The rest of him had started to move as well now, and he was unsuccessfully trying to raise his arms to shield himself from the shower spray. Edward was briefly reminded of a bumblebee who'd had its wings bent – lying fumbling on the grass as it tried to get up to fly again.

"You'll be alright," Edward stated stonily, pushing back some of the dark hair that had fallen into Envy's face, though feeling somewhat of a nurse when he said it. "You've lost a lot of blood, but you'll be alright. The baby is alright too."

Envy squinted for a second then leaned his head back, letting the pressure of the water massage the skin of his face. He opened his mouth and caught some of the spray in it – spitting it out again when it filled up too much. Edward removed his hands from the Shape shifter's shoulders and rested them on his Automail knee, watching as the Sin slowly came around.

"You did something with the gate, didn't you?" He asked levelly. Envy seemed to ignore him and lay still beneath the coursing water. Edward frowned.

"Hey, what did you do, Envy? What did you ask it for? Why didn't it work?"

The Sin rolled his head back down and stared blankly at the Alchemist. At least that had drawn some kind of response. He tried again.

"What did you ask the Gate for, Envy?"

It seemed as if someone had struck a blow to the back of the Sin's head, the recollection hit him so hard. Suddenly his violet eyes widened and his mouth curled into a silent scream, sheer terror cementing his features into a gruesome howl. Panicked, Edward dove in close to him, wrapping his fingers around the Sin's lanky upper arms – pressing his fingers in.

"No, don't faze out again." he ordered. "You knew what that was, didn't you? You knew it! Why did it scare you so much?"

_"Where__is__he?"_ Envy's voice was thin and cracked but terribly urgent.

"What?" Edward squeezed his thumb and forefinger over his eyes to clear the water from them.

_"Where__is__he?"_ The Sin's hands had snaked up to Edwards forearms and were clasped around them, his grip completely lacking any strength and powered only by absolute desperation.

"Who? The Homunculus?"

_"Where is he?"_

"Izumi took it." Edward's expression screwed up with confusion as Envy's frantic concern began to waver. His waif-like hands, no longer digging into Edward's flesh, were gently smoothing up and down his arms. Envy's lower lip was trembling a little and he pressed his teeth onto it to stop it.

_"You__didn't__leave__him__alone__did__you?"_ He spoke again, slightly more composed.

"Sensei has it," Edward assured him, carefully, wondering where exactly Envy was going to take this. He was referring to the Homunculus as though it had been some kind of person. That was...interesting. Especially since he'd never acknowledged the baby as anything other than an 'it'. "Don't worry, she's looking after it – uhh, him."

_"Don't leave him alone."_

"W-we didn't."

Edward squinted through the droplets of water as the Shape shifter slowly hung his head, rocking it dazedly from side to side as he repeated the sentence to himself as though it had become stuck on his tongue.

_"Please don't leave him alone..."_

The Alchemist pressed his lips together fretfully as Envy's plea became quieter and quieter until it was just a slow mumble manipulating his mouth. Envy seemed to have developed the unique ability to be able to both pierce you heart with his harsh, inhuman tongue yet also to twist it around in pity with his wretched, imploring worry.

Edward sat still awhile, letting the Sin mutter woefully to himself as the warm water continually rained down upon them when he realized that, every now and again, the format of Envy's script changed slightly. Leaning closer, he felt his stomach squirm as the Sin's tiny plea altered.

_"Don't leave him alone. Please don't leave him alone."_

_"Don't leave me alone..."_

Envy's face, though still angled down toward the steel pan of the shower floor, had taken on such a completely dejected, desolate look that even unwanted tears found themselves prickling around the stoic golden halos of Edward's eyes. The Alchemist didn't really understand what he meant, but he knew the look of utter devastation when he saw it. And that spurred a vague recollection of the apparent kinship the Homunculi portrayed the night he had taken Envy away.

Like pack animals, they cared for one another. _Like__humans._

They weren't as alien as they thought they were.

As Edward needed to see reality, Envy needed to hear it. He needed affirmation. Reparation. Something stable. The strongest statements in the English language are known to be comprised of three words: 'I hate you', 'I love you'. But at this very moment, Edward found he only needed two.

"I won't."

Gently, as though embracing something that would crumble at any moment, Edward wrapped his arms around the Sin and pulled him close. And finally, as the Sin slumped against Edward's chest, his rickety shoulders shuddering with silent sobs, Edward felt the anger and resentment bleed from his skin, running down his sodden body and curling like a fern-frond as it filtered away down the drain.

And somewhere in a darkened, cobwebbed corner of in the heart of the Homunculus, something else; something bitter and golden had been let go. Not_forgiven_ as such, but released. The bumblebee had lost its sting, but it was still alive.

The two sat for a while longer, soundlessly embracing until the shower ran cold and Edward had to turn it off. It was then that reality struck its common humorous note as Edward realized that, although he hadn't thought to take off Envy's clothes initially, he was certainly going to have to now. He couldn't put the half-conscious Homunculus to bed in his wet, dripping T-shirt. And, Edward bit his lip, the bandage over his wound would need to be changed. That couldn't remain wet either.

Edward sighed as he dragged a towel from the rail and began blotting Envy's long hair. He might have been a self-appointed genius when it came to Alchemy, but sometimes he just didn't _think._

"Uhh, Sensei?" he called timidly down the stairs.

_Interpretation – that was unbelievably important when it came to dealing with the Gate of Worlds._

_You might know exactly what you mean when you ask for what you desire, but if you don't make it clear enough, the Gate will take over and decide for itself. Many Alchemists found that they couldn't handle the presence of the Gate – that they were overwhelmed by fear and terror as they sat before the dark doors and completely forgot what it was they asking of it._

_That was bad._

_One doesn't forget oneself in front of the Gate._

_It was all about will._

_Unfortunately – though Envy had seen the Gate at the birth of Pride and Greed and sometimes when Dante had just summoned it – he had never quite gotten used to its appearance. Those huge, black doors, lacquered heavily with foreboding. The eerie creak of gargantuan hinges as they swung open. Those thousands of eyes staring back at him expectantly and the chill of childish laughter in the air as they chuckled over a joke that only they knew._

_Envy had thought of what to say – albeit hastily as he'd rushed about preparing the transmutation circle. He'd imagined what he'd ask, but he didn't really put much care into it. So when the Gate loomed in front of him, over him, around him - uncertainty destroyed any sliver of confidence his anger had produced. And words escaped him._

_He forgot._

_That was bad._

_The Gate sat patiently and the creatures writhed over each other tittering and singing macabre nursery rhymes as they waited for Envy to speak. The Sin himself moved his mouth a couple of times, sifting through the tangled web of words in his mind as he tried to find what he wanted to say. Finally, after a few experimental croaking noises, the request came out:_

_"Take this thing outta me! Give me back what's mine – make me a Homunculus again!"_

_Envy blinked. It wasn't quite what he'd wanted to say, but he figured it was close enough._

_There was a moment as the Gate seemed to consider this, then the long, black arms came forward, stretching out of the mingled pit of purple gazes and clutched over Envy's form. At first, because he'd seen the arms before, he wasn't surprised and sat still. Terrified, but still._

_But when the pain exploded inside him like a white-hot supernova in his belly, he'd screamed and flailed and tried to push away. He didn't know it was going to hurt. He had no idea it was going to hurt. And it did._

_Hurt. And burned._

_Envy cried out a few more times, struggling, before the explosion of pain seized his whole body and threw white in front of his eyes._

_Then everything stopped._

_The world turned again..._

There was someone beside him.

Another body.

Another person.

Mingling in with the aromas of laundered sheets and crisp linen was the scent of soap, hair and flesh in close proximity. It was sharp at first, blinding, then it mellowed as Envy's eyelids fluttered, breathing in flashes of sallow light as his senses fought sluggishly for consciousness.

There was someone beside him.

Someone _warm._

He dully recalled being mesmerized by the heat a human body could produce – it had been over a century since he had been removed from his true form and he'd found there were so many things about it he wished he'd been more aware of. One in particular was the tepidity and the scent of skin. His Homunculus body – cold and pale as it was – did not give off an odor of any kind and nor did the dead blood beneath it warm.

Time did not touch it and though it could be marred, the lifeless immortal skin could seal itself with ease – becoming perfect and flawless again within seconds.

But there was something about this detraction that irked Envy and though he often proclaimed his distaste for humans, he found himself lingering beside them – often simply walking in a crowded street – sensing the ambient mortality around him.

Of course, he'd noticed with the growth of the baby and the forced changes within his body, a lot of those things he'd been curious about weren't exactly _worth_experiencing.

Pain, for example. He wasn't particularly fond of that – although he never had been anyway.

The warm someone beside him made a soft noise and Envy's will battled over his body – fighting for the control to open his eyes. Wriggling a little, he let his head drop to the side - his vision blurring as a few cold tears that had been sitting mysteriously in the dip in the corner of his eye trickled over their glassy surface.

Edward was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, asleep; golden head resting heavily on his forearms. His left hand, the gentle hand, had its fingertips resting on the edge of Envy's arm, and though the Sin wasn't sure about the sensation, he wasn't too convinced he wanted to shake it off. Though he gritted his teeth at the Alchemist's closenessthe desire to scratch at his _annoyingly_handsome face had vanished. Memories strummed a low melody in Envy's mind. Something had happened. He knew that, his body knew that, though he couldn't clearly remember the details.

He shifted a little, feeling hollow and cold. How one could possibly feel so chilled and alone with Edward's warm, golden locks in such closerange, he didn't know.

And despite its radiant heat, even the child inside him felt more like a stone weight stretching his skin.

Muttering in his sleep, Edward grunted a little, disturbed by the movement and slowly opened his eyes.

The sun rose.

They stared at each other for a few uneasy moments, unsure of quite what to say. Or if they should say anything at all. There was something so remarkably intimate about their position – Envy, having only hours ago been in such mortal distress he'd trembled and cried and begged for Edward's help; and Edward, unable to ignore such agonized terror, even from someone as awful as the sin, having aided him so willingly, so selflessly.

The fiery emotions they'd held toward each other had dulled – been snuffed out by pain and trepidation. Whatever they felt now, they weren't certain they were supposed to act upon.

Violet regarded gold and quietly reminded itself that although they were _complimentary_ colours, they still sat on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Edward, so like the dawn, was first to speak.

"You're awake," he stated, carefully – trying not to let relief flood over his expression.

"That's a bit obvious, even for you, O'Chibi," Envy flinched at the sound of his own voice. Weak... Shaking and quiet. His words could be as strong as they liked – it still wasn't going to hide his current vulnerability.

"Are you feeling...okay?" Edward groaned inwardly. That was, without a doubt, one of the l_amest_ statements in comparison to the situation that he'd come up with in a long time. Envy rolled his eyes.

"What are you, a knight in shining armor? I'm not a princess, you know."

"Well, you're certainly no virginal princess, that's for sure." Edward shot back.

"And you'dhave a _pony_ as your valiant steed, you pygmy!"

"Are we going to do this all day?" The Alchemist rubbed at the stiff muscles in his neck. "Because I really don't have the energy for it. And I'm pretty sure you don't either."

"Then what are you pissing about for?"

"I was just waiting until you got a bit better, that's all."

"_Better_ doesn't really come close, Elric. That kinda implies that something has been _fixed_."

"You're alive," Edward knitted his brows in confusion. "The baby is alive. What's bad about that? I don't get it."

"Alive?" Envy let out a short, joyless laugh and rolled his head back on the pillow so he was staring at the ceiling. "How can something _dead_ suddenly be alive again? I'm not alive, Elric. I've never been _alive_ in this body. In fact I'm pretty sure I'm more _dead_than I was before..."

"Dead?" Edward sat up and leaned over on his elbows, digging them into the mattress. "What?"

Envy remained silent, but the Alchemist could see the line of his jaw tightening. Suddenly he seemed... so much smaller. And tired, very tired. Dark circles of fatigue rimmed his eyes, which Edward noticed, were still drained of their usual colour.

"It's to do with that Homunculus, isn't it?" He answered himself. "You knew what that was..."

"Of course I did."

"So why were you so surprised? I mean - " Edward thought about that for a second, realizing again that he'd said something brainless. " – you must have been expecting _something_ after you did the trade..."

Envy shot him a surprised look, which quickly melted into dogged concession.

"Hn, I knew you had an 'Alchemy Detector' on you O'Chibi..."

"I found the book."

"You're pointing out the obvious again."

"What did you ask the Gate for?"

"Oh come _on!"_ Envy groaned, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes as a dull ache pegged between his temples. "What do you think?"

Edward harrumphed at the Sin's condescending tone, but shook it off.

"To get rid of the baby?"

"And?"

"To, uh, get your powers back?"

The Sin nodded, still massaging his brows.

"So," Edward continued slowly. "Why the Homunculus? Why didn't it give you what you wanted?"

"Because that stupid gate takes things far too literally. That and it has a very vindictive sense of humor."

"You mean, you said the wrong thing?"

"Wrong thing, right thing – who knows?" Envy sighed and lowered his hands, crossing them over his chest. "That Homunculus wasn't just an ordinary Homunculus. I hadn't asked the Gate to bring _back_ a life, only to take one. And it certainly took one – just not the one_I_ had meant."

"Then, that thing was..." Edward swallowed audibly.

"Whatever power I had left in _me_." Envy's voice teetered on borderline whisper. "Whatever Homunculus I had left in my body – that was it."

Edward's eyes widened. His mouth twitched as his tongue fought to say about six different words at once while his brain metaphorically steamed with the effort it took to envisage such an idea.

"B-but you _are_ a Homunculus..."

"I _was_," Envy corrected, bitterly.

"You mean it changed you? What are you then, human?"

"No, I'd need a soul. You _know_ that. I don't even have an_incomplete_ one now..."

"So you're not a Homunculus, you're not human," Edward shook his head in confusion. "What else _can_ you be?"

"Nothing."

You can't _not_ be something!"

"Then what _am_ I, Edward?" Envy exploded in fretful exasperation, forgetting in his anguished frustration to use his usual patronizing nicknames for the Alchemist. "You tell me! The Homunculus that left my body – that _was_ me... It was what I'd been born as!"

"How do you know?" Edward asked, gently. The Sin's voice had risen, but it was painfully strained and Ed could almost feel the note of tribulation tensing it. Envy shook his head sadly, closing his eyes against the pale sunlight that peeked through the window at the scene.

"A body knows when it's missing something." He hugged his arms tighter across his chest. "Although your loss is pretty self-evident, it's the same thing. The Gate took your arm and leg. It took my... my -" Envy fumbled on the correct terms and gave up when it was simply just too much effort. " – construction. My composition."

"But how can you still be here if you...aren't?"

"Might be so I can still carry this...this -" Envy sighed, defeated. " -_the_ baby. Like a surrogate shell, with perhaps just enough of my old persona that I can function normally. As I said, the Gate has a wonderfully spiteful sense of humor."

Edward nodded – still a little dumbfounded by the concept.

"Why did it...um... exit your body like it did?" He bit his lip, feeling a tad queasy.

"I'd assume since I'd lost so many of the stones before," Envy reasoned. "It was like losing pieces of myself: what I knew and what I'd learned. Or at least separating them from the Homunculus part of me. What was left was so... primitive all it could remember was being born. So it just did what it knew."

Edward shuddered.

"That's completely disturbing."

The Sin nodded slowly in agreement.

"Didn't feel so good either."

"But if you don't have a soul, or never had a complete one in the first place, then how did the baby get created?" Edward raised one hand up to his chin and leaned on it, thoughtfully. "I mean, if you think in normal circumstances, two people – two souls, come together to make a third. As well as uhh –" The blond gesticulated awkwardly. " – the _physical_ bits. If you didn't have a soul, or a complete soul, how did we...get, um... where we are now."

It felt far too weird to say 'How did we get pregnant' and even so, Edward couldn't help blushing at the last statement. But to his relief he swore a faint tinge of scarlet redden the Sin's cheeks as well. Envy looked over at Edward, perplexity smoothing over his expression. So the bastard wasn't just a pretty face.

"You're asking _me?"_ Envy hitched an eyebrow.

"Guess that was a stupid question," Edward admitted, ruefully.

"You guessed right."

"But um, what's going to happen when it's born?" The Alchemist asked quietly, albeit with a touch of consternation.

"I suppose I'll die." Envy muttered. "Or disappear. Or revert back into what I'm made of."

"Like Greed did?"

"Not that I saw," The Sin looked him over accusingly. "But if it was the liquid Philosopher's stone material, then something like that."

"Would the stones help you?" Edward shifted on the mattress, his back cramping in the odd, crouched position. "If I could locate some? Or if I tried to find Lust..."

"Now why would _you_ want to help _me?"_ The Sin cracked an eye open and looked at the Alchemist suspiciously. "Aren't you pissed because I killed your military friend?"

"I was," Edward admitted, dryly, regretting his outburst of concern. "And don't think I'msorry I hit you, I'm not.I just _shouldn't_ have, that's all."

"Whatever. But I'm not going to apologize either," Envy grumbled, stubbornly. "Why should I regret something I don't think is wrong?"

"Don't push it." Edward warned. "I'm not stupid. You may not wear a uniform or braid, but you're a soldier. Of sorts. You follow a command, you battle, you kill. You may have had more of an advantage, but you were part of a war. And I'm aware of what happens in wars."

"'Killed in action', you put it down to that, huh?" the Sin cocked an eyebrow, but made sure to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"It's commendable," Ed replied, shortly. "And besides, if you hadn't killed him, another one of your cronies would have. Am I right?"

Envy looked away again, feeling shameful. He didn't like to appease the Alchemist, but... what point was there in being difficult now? He had nothing left, absolutely nothing. Even Dante and his siblings had left him to drown in his own folly. And they must have guessed he'd try any method he could to rid himself of the baby.

They abandoned him. And now all he'd become was simply a casing to hold the life inside him. He was only _allowed_ to live because of the baby. Because Dante and the Gate let him. It was obvious now that from the start he hadn't had a say in the matter. He'd gotten the ball rolling, so to speak, but had only made it worse for himself when he tried to stop it.

And for that reason was his hate toward the baby really that justified? Did he have reason to be bitter simply because he'd been the one to suffer when he foolishly tried to play with things he wasn't meant to?

_Did humans have to suffer at the hands of the Homunculi because they didn't know?_

"Lust was meant to kill him if you must know," he conceded, miserably. "Sloth and Lust were. I was the backup in case he got away. Which he did."

Edward nodded slowly, trying hard not to let the memory take control of his emotions. There was no way in hell he was going to start crying in front of the Sin.

"I see," he said in a clipped, controlled voice. "Well, what now?"

Envy jerked his shoulders listlessly in a half-hearted shrug.

"Are you going to try anything _else,_ or can we rest assured you won't be killing yourself anytime soon?"

"No, I give up now," the Sin closed his eyes, tiredly. "I don't think there's a hell of a lot more I could do to it anyway. And I'm bored of it. It's there now."

"It is." Edward sighed.

There was another moment of silence as the two boys mulled over the recent information and Envy looked away out the window, watching as the sun slowly plodded over the sky. Birdsong trilled in the air and the darkness retreated to the corners of the room, crushing its back into the walls until finally the light swept it away.

When he turned his attention back to Edward, however, he noticed the Alchemist staring at the rise in the blankets about his middle with a very chaste look dancing tentatively about his features. They'd crumpled messily about his swollen belly and with the way his T-shirt had also scrunched up in his sleep, a small portion of the smooth, pale skin was on display.

Which the young Alchemist found... _fascinating._

Edward must have felt his gaze, though because another blush quickly burned across his cheeks and he sat up abruptly, averting his eyes in embarrassment.

"I um, I was just..."

Without saying a word, Envy gripped the Alchemist's clammy palm and gently pressed it against the side of his stomach. Edward inhaled sharply when he felt the fluttering of the baby's movements under the Shape shifter's skin.

"Is that...?"

"Shut up, you stupid bastard," Envy hastily flicked his hand away, feeling ridiculous.

"Does it bother you?"

"I hate it," the Sin admitted, truthfully. "But there's not a lot I can do is there?"

Edward bobbed his head, numbly. Only a short time ago the baby had seemed so distant, so fictitious. It was a part of reality that his mind just wouldn't accept and he'd gone along with that, thinking the less he knew about it, the better. But now... It was like knowing there was a sun behind the clouds but only now feeling the warm rays lick his skin.

Now it was there... It was really _there._

However his reality might battle against it.

"Yeah," he agreed, solemnly. "It's there. And whatever happens to you, we'll deal with at the time," he added.

"Doesn't really matter," Envy murmured, drifting into another wave of unconsciousness. "I have nothing left anyway."

Edward stared at him a little longer, silently watching the Sin succumb to his exhaustion. He'd been wearier than he'd let on – and once again he seemed to shrink against the weight of the blankets that covered him. Gently Edward dusted a long strand of hair away that had fallen into his face.

The elder Elric had always clung to the idea that he was a realist, that he believed in the world around him. Though he swore on God's name like any ordinary person, he meant it only as a figure of speech – not as blasphemy toward a nameless, uncategorized deity. The only thing that seemed remotely religious about Edward Elric was his belief in Equivalent Trade and only really because that seemed like such a solid, justifiable rule.

Alchemy made sense – it was scientific, not magic. It had regulations.

But once he'd gone against those regulations, he broke the solid reality of the process. So did that mean he'd broken the spell of reality for himself?

Edward shrugged to himself as he settled back onto the floor, setting up once again for another lengthy observation as the Sin slept. Whatever happened, whether it made sense or not, he'd come to the unfortunate conclusion that reality didn't like him very much


	10. What not to wear

**Dark Humor**

_Chapter 10: What not to wear._

Envy awoke to the uncomfortable sensation of a needle sliding into the crease of his elbow.

There it was again, the light. The consciousness. The narrow pain as the world dipped into his flesh through the pores of his skin, catching on things and tearing as the hurt in his exhausted body raced for the door and let perception in before any of his other senses could get off the couch.

There was the sun. The glowing of day. It painted over his skin; illuminating, in cloudy orange, the closed lids of his eyes. Though it was fairly exiguous, it was constant, and nagged at the pain-strewn Shape shifter's brain all silver claws and high-pitched tinitic whining. Envy grunted, fighting wretchedly against the onslaught of brightness – not wanting to submit to the world just _yet._His body just felt far too alien to wear at the moment; another ache was starting to build in the back of his neck which essentially mimicked the blunt, throbbing pain in the rest of his limbs, and his mouth felt as though it had lent his tongue to some industrial cleaning agency and they'd used it to wipe down bath mats all evening.

He felt sick.

He _was _sick.

And tired. Very, very tired.

However, despite his discomfort and complete disinterest in being awake, his entire form snapped to attention when he felt something prodding at his lower body - a little _too_close to his groin. Feline eyes staggered open with inebriated awareness and began to focus slowly on the face of the accused manhandler. If there wasn't a description more apt or precise.

And as he glared upon Mr Adventurous Fingers, Envy frowned inside his skull, his fingers laddering up the sheets to close them into his fist.

The face belonged to someone he didn't know. One that was pleated with lines of age and tension and fringed with a bristling moustache of uninteresting mousy brown hair. The rest of him was clothed in a blue shirt with a deeper blue tie, which had a thin, silver pin attaching it to the starched material. Though the outfit itself was nothing out of the ordinary, the fact that he was _also_wearing a long, white coat made Envy's nerves stand on end.

Basic instinct generally advises against trusting anyone in a white coat. White coats were something to be wary of. White coats often meant trouble. _Meddling,_his vocabulary also provided. Envy hadn't had much experience with White Coats, but even so, being presented with one when one has been unconscious for a period of time made him feel slightly vulnerable, if not a little _exposed_.

A low growl simmered in the back of his throat, causing the offender to glance up, abruptly.

Doctor Christopher Alan Warner gave a negligible huff through his whiskers as he met Envy's spikily vindictive, if not slightly bleary violet scowl with his own chalky glare and straightened, removing his hands from the lower curve of the Sin's stomach. Said scowl narrowed as it caught its reflection and was unimpressed to find the other flinty look was equally as stern and serious. Yet where Envy's was laced in cool seams of confusion, Warner's consisted only of resolute pragmatism.

Immediately the man fell into the Sin's human catergory reference as the type of mortal you didn't mess around with. For the main reason that they could mess around with _you_far worse than you could with them.

"Don't worry, I'm not fiddling with anything I shouldn't," the doctor assured him, as though reading his mind.

Envy curled his upper lip, refusing to lighten his glower.

"'Fiddling' and 'shouldn't' are two words that aren't allowed to be in any kind of sentence directed at me," he remarked, testily.

"Hrmm, yes," Warner stated, cleverly disregarding the salty note on Envy's voice. "Well, I must say, you're recovering exceptionally well for someone who only hours ago was experiencing mass hemorrhaging and internal tearing. Are you still in any pain?"

"Pain?" Envy grunted. "You people are a damn pain," "You and this stupid _thing_inside me..."

That was a default statement. Although he'd thought he would despise the child even _more_ after it refused to be destroyed in his botched attempt at Body Alchemy, he actually found himself rather in awe of its determination to live. Especially since the level of its perseverance quite ironically matched his own. But, despite the fact that Envy had finally accumulated a certain kind of affection towards the kid, he wasn't about to let _others_know how he felt about it.

"Hrmm, I think the word you're looking for might possibly be 'baby'," Warner corrected him, cautiously, pulling up the small stool from under the desk. He sat himself down and waited a moment as the Sin chewed together another sarcastic remark, glancing attentively every now and again at the level of the saline drip as the liquid slowly bled into Envy's system.

Quite frankly, Christopher wasn't too keen on the boy's attitude toward his condition, or at least his refusal to accept it, yet he knew he had to bite his chastising tongue in order to try to earn a little cooperation. Touka Koukan – Alchemists could produce objects through equivalent trade, doctors could euphemizecertain details of a person's circumstance in order to evoke unanimity. Lollipops in exchange for vaccine injections. Same thing, just on a larger scale.

Now, naturally Izumi had given him a brief rundown on the boy's predicament the previous evening as they patiently waited for the ailing Shape shifter's condition to stabilize. And though he had taken the circumstances of the pregnancy into consideration, Warner was a family man. He could not accept the idea of unwanted children and would go to great lengths to keep the concept out of his practice.

"You amaze me with your knowledge," Envy sneered, jutting out his chin a little. "Now tell me, have you taken over from that damn woman or do I get two people feeling me up for the rest of the time I'm carrying this kid?"

"An interesting way to put it," the doctor replied, smoothing his moustache with the pads of his fingers. "But an inaccurate one. I was examining the course of the wound in your lower body to make sure there has been no other internal damage or clots that I wasn't aware of at the time."

"Wo-wound?" Envy's reddened cheeks turned ashen very speedily. "What...? Oh..."

And all of a sudden the view out the small window by the bed became very, very interesting. However, despite the Sin's embarrassment and unexplained desire to wear about fourteen different expressions at once, Warner overlooked his chargrin and leaned forward, pressing lightly on the mattress with his palm.

"Do you mind if I continue? Only I hadn't finished. And, if you would let me, I'd like to examine the fetus as well."

Envy frowned at a small sparrow that up until that moment hadn't really been bothering anybody and bit at the side of his lip. Though he really _did_hate to be touched, no one had actually _asked_him before. To be requisitioned gave him an equal opportunity to say no. Yet even so, without consciously wanting to, Envy let his head bob in an imperceptible affirmative.

Warner smiled a little behind his moustache and placed his warm hands back onto the small area of exposed skin at the base of Envy's stomach. Experienced fingers manipulated the colourless, anemically pale flesh, never hurting and never _quite_pushing past the point of mild discomfort. The Sin, still completely exhausted and aching – _battered_to say the least – relaxed back onto the thin pillow of his bed and closed his eyes, only snapping them open again when the doctor flicked back his T-shirt to expose the rest of his growing curve to the warm mid-morning air.

"You're not very promising for six months," the doctor informed him, conversationally, as he smoothed his palms over Envy's stretched belly. "Has Izumi commented on your weight before?"

The Sin mumbled something of a non-committal 'yes' and returned to his taut silence, watching Warner through his eyelashes as the doctor carefully massaged his strained abdominal muscles. Though originally he'd felt all aspects of mortification when Izumi had started poking him around, his embarrassment melted as Warner's blunt fingertips slowly worked out the points of tension caused by the increasing bulk of the baby.

Stupid Woman _poked._This one... just did _nice_things.

Warner himself took careful measures to ensure that his touch remained neutral, that he didn't try to force any kind of emotion into it - just kept it to that of someone who knew the structure of muscles and how to ease them.

Envy seemed the type of person who could easily take things the wrong way and Christopher knew he couldn't afford to lose the trust of his patient at this point. The Sin desperately needed medical observation. He was weak. Weak and far too thin – even the baby itself hadn't quite grown to the usual size of most in their third trimester. If the Shape shifter continued to abuse it as he did, it would spell trouble for the both of them. Though Warner wasn't _quite_sure how much more 'trouble' Envy could stand after his cataclysmic ordeal. The boy was not human and Warner was a medical doctor, not a paranormal expert.

But he could only give advice as he saw fit. If Envy was ill, he'd administer the correct antibiotics. If he was bleeding, he'd dress the wound. If he was too thin, then he'd advise gaining weight. Warner felt that the latter point had probably been discussed quite often between Izumi and Envy, but unfortunately one had a habit of coming across as overtly condescending whilst the other appeared to have his ears painted on.

If they weren't going to cooperate in bringing the child into the world, someone else was going to have to step in.

Christopher shook his head a little and brushed Envy's shirt back down, tugging at the blankets over his hips, once he was satisfied with the health of the Sin's innards. The Shape shifter seemed to ignore him completely, though Warner knew some uneasy part of him was attuned to follow his every move.

"I know Izumi can be a little overbearing at times," Warner voiced his thoughts, patiently. "But she's only trying to help."

Envy pursed his lips into another sneer and examined the plastic bandage on his wrist that held the IV drip's needle in place.

"She lost a child herself..."

"I _know_that," the Sin interrupted, rolling his eyes. "And she thinks _I'm_some kind of surrogate second-chance."

"She tried for a long time," Warner went on, not taking his eyes off the Shape shifter's expression. "Donors, artificial insemination, additional hormones..."

"This is gross. This is very, _very_ gross. I don't want to hear this."

"Years of it. But nothing worked. The only thing she _didn't_want to try was a surrogate. Do you know why?"

"Yes... I don't know why," Envy replied, sarcastically. "And I don't care either."

"She wanted to carry the baby herself," Warner finished, levelly. "She wanted the closeness a mother gets when she holds her _own_baby – not one that has been carried by someone else. Izumi loves children, but she also wanted her _own_children."

"That's very nice," Envy huffed, irritably. "Write it on a card, why don't ya, and send it to some old lady in Xenotime, maybe she'll shed a tear or two for you."

"All I'm saying is that you're not a replacement for anyone,"

_Not for anyone here_, Envy thought miserably, digging his fingernails under the edges of the bandage where the adhesive had worn away.

"Don't play with that."

"Why not? What's it for?" the Sin squinted up at the bag of clear liquid and twiddled his fingers in the slim tube that connected the drip to his arm.

"It's an intravenous drip, a way to introduce nutrients into you system when you cannot consume them yourself. You've been unconscious for a little over a week now and we needed to keep your body hydrated." Warner frowned as Envy's inquisitive fingers tugged on the line. "There're some painkillers included as well, and antigenic fluids to ward off any illness. We can't afford to have you getting sick again."

"When do you get rid of it?"

"Not _just_yet. A little while longer to ensure you and the child are getting the proper nutrition you both need."

"Well that's just _spiffy_... What the hell am I supposed to do with it when I'm walking around? Balance it on my head?"

"_You _won't be walking anywhere for awhile. Not if you don't want to rip your stitches and end up in considerable pain."

"I have stitches?" Envy immediately ceased fiddling with the drip and threw a genuinely startled look in Christopher's direction.

"Well, the uhh... That is to say... the exit of the... um... well," Warner didn't particularly want to say 'thing' and henceforth struggled for appropriate descriptions, "_Creation_isreally nothing but a wound. And it's healing well, but it's still quite a _large_wound.

Envy was making a plethora of strange noises that humorously complimented his current waxy, slightly sweat-sheened complexion. Finally, after a brief chorus of 'Bth's, he gulped them down and managed to squeak:

"But... How am I supposed to... Y'know..."

"C-section."

"See what?"

"_Cesarean_ section."

"Wasn't he an emperor?"

"No," Warner successfully hid his chuckle beneath a light cough. "We remove the child from the womb itself via a cut from here," he pointed at the base of Envy's belly and traced a horizontal line across it. "To here. It's impossible for you to give birth in the default manner, your body isn't set up for it. You don't have the necessary muscles where you need them and your hips are far too narrow – you'd end up damaging the baby."

Envy, at this point, was turning the colour that shared a metaphorical kinship with his name.

"In fact," the doctor continued. "I'm a little worried about the way the child _will_sit on your pelvis once it's heavier." He took off his glasses and tinkered absently with the hinges on the arms. "There'll be an awful lot of pressure on that area, it'll be very uncomfortable. I don't want to have to operate, but I may have to dislocate-"

"Shut up, _shut up,"_Envy gripped his arm weakly. "I'm going to vomit if you keep going with this."

"Have I convinced you to trust me then?" Warner raised a playful bushy brow as a twisting grimace contorted the Sin's features, which were still blushing an interesting shade of chartreuse. "After all, even Izumi wouldn't _really_know what to do in that kind of situation."

Envy crinkled his nose a little and shot Warner a suspicious, sideways glance.

"What if I say no?"

"Well, I guess I'll be a little disappointed that I don't get to monitor this rather amazing medical phenomenon," the doctor squeezed his chin between his thumb and forefinger, studying the Sin's reaction with incorrigible placidity. "But if _I_go, then so does the medication I've provided you with. And I think you may miss the rather hefty painkillers I've included in the drip."

"Hefty?"

"Absolutely. There aren't many medications you can take while expecting, but the specific measure of meperidine in the saline fluid is just enough to keep you from feeling the _real_brunt of discomfort from your injuries without posing any danger to the child."

Envy tilted his chin ever so slightly, signaling a sudden interest in the matter.

"Of course," Warner continued with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. "You can take simple paracetamol quite safely. However-" He reached up and tapped the IV bag with his forefinger. "I don't think it will be anywhere near as effective. Did I mention how_large_your wound was?"

"You bastard, you're bribing me with drugs!"

"In a word," the doctor's moustache hitched with a wry grin. "Yes."

Envy harrumphed disgustedly, but the man had moved up a notch in his books. Anyone who was willing to bribe another in order to get their way was the kind of person the Sin was a lot more comfortable dealing with. He liked despicable people. That was probably one of the only aspects of human nature he really commended.

And he never _ever_needed to remind himself that he wasn't very fond of pain. Shaking his head a little, he managed to crack a partial smile.

"Fine, fine, whatever. Just don't come whining to me if I kill you later."

"Agreed," Warner nodded jovially, brushing aside the Shape shifter's paradox of a threat. "And no more midnight aquatic romps with Edward either. Getting wet and cold isn't a good idea for you."

"We- He- I didn't...!" Envy went to protest but stopped when he realized he didn't actually remember what he was defending himself _about_. Christopher wasn't paying attention anyway and was busy scribbling notes in a thick, spiral bound ledger.

"Right, that should just about do for today's visit," he said, jotting away as he spoke. "I can omit the anesthetics now that you've fully come around, though I'll have to adjust the level of the other medicines. You can start having liquids – juices, broth, that kind of thing. And you _will_eat." Warner gave Envy a stringent glare. "Don't try and tell me you don't think your body can gain weight because of what it is. Izumi has informed me that you've steadily lost a great deal; therefore I'm quite convinced you can put it back _on_again. Understood?"

Envy wanted to retort that Izumi's cooking was just about as edible as something squishy one would find on the bottom of one's shoe, but Warner didn't seem to want to listen to any type of complaint and had already shut his notebook. He got up, leaning over to check the drip again, then stood back a little, scrutinizing the Sin critically.

"Izumi will change the bag later this evening I'd imagine," he stated, wedging his book under his arm. "Try to sleep again, get as much rest as you can. And don't fiddle with the needle or I'll start administering your medicine by suppositories."

With that, he leaned over, hoisted his bulging black medical bag from the floor and left the room. Envy stared after him awhile, trying to remember if he knew what suppositories were and whether he _wanted_them to be administered.

Something told him he didn't.

Wriggling his shoulders a little, Envy tried to sink into a more comfortable position, attempting to accommodate the fact that there was a piece of thin metal sitting in the skin of his left wrist. But just _knowing_something foreign was in his body made him feel a little nauseous, so he did his best to ignore it. Instead he rolled up his shirt once again and, probably for the first time since he'd found out he was pregnant, took a good look at his current physical condition.

The Sin couldn't _quite_believe that the doctor thought he was _small._He certainly wouldn't have placed himself under any kind of category synonymous with _small. He_thought his figure at the moment tended to prompt words such as 'bloated', 'bulging' and 'distorted'. It wasn't any kind of self-confidence image issue, he'd simply gotten used to his unchanging form that usually sported a waist so tiny he could almost touch both hands, thumb to little finger, around it.

Now he felt he'd be lucky if a yardstick could encircle his girth.

Sighing despondently, he rested his palm against the top of the curve, near his ribs, and felt the movements of the baby as it kicked and flipped about happily within its snug surroundings. Of course, he _knew_that was a completely ridiculous inflection, but all hilarity aside, he still considered it appropriate to at least _try_ to console himself with a _little_self-pity.

Yet, despite the chain of decidedly _damaging_events Envy had endured as of late, he found himself reacting with a lot less concern than he deemed plausible. It was an odd, nearly unpalatable concept, but he appeared to have just _accepted_ his fate – as though it had pretty much been inevitable from the beginning. And while he reasoned that he hadn't had much time so far to mull over his misfortune, he got the feeling that he probably wouldn't anyway.

In all honesty, he'd really had enough. That was _it._

When life throws you lemons, you can either make lemonade or suck 'em dry and impersonate a cat's arse, depending on your point of view.

If everyone was so keen on having him lose his powers, push out a kid and then die, so be it. _Fuck, _at least then he wouldn't have to answer back to that _woman._ That _bitch_Dante,who could have easily put him out of his misery, but instead let him wallow in it alone - to think he'd labeled her the _good_one. The one who hadn't abandoned him when he'd been reborn.

How satirical. She saves something from the claws of oblivion, only to let it die again for her own benefit. He'd thought she'd actually _cared_enough to have raised him as a Homunculus, and though he knew he wasn't as blind as the others when it came to creating the Philosopher's stone in order to become human, he'd subconsciously blotted out the fact that she'd only reared him again to _use._

Like a tool.

Something absurdly utilitarian: a hammer, a spanner, a _wrench._ Something associated with the type of humans who enjoyed displaying their reverse cleavage and barking to one another in tottering guttural. Was he really as effortless to manipulate as that? Surely his error in judgment towards his mother wasn't quite _that_punishable, yet it seemed as though the fates had destined him to become an instrument for anyone he thought he trusted. Or attempted to trust.

_Guess my string got a little too long anyway, _he admitted to himself, miserably. The child shifted slight inside him, but stopped jumping around and sat quietly as if to console its doomed parent. Envy, despite his original foul temperament toward the baby, managed a wan smile.

"If you get the chance when you see Dante," he said, drumming his fingertips lightly over his middle, "Bite her."

Stretching languorously, he reached his arm behind him and wedged it in between his head and the pillow so he could attend to the aching bands of muscle in the back of his neck. The other continued to dance about his swollen belly, dusting languid circles over the taut skin. He felt a little strange being suddenly so tolerant of something he'd convinced himself to hate for so long, but he had to admit, even though it was probably going to destroy him in the end, the baby wasn't directly _responsible_. And at this very moment, it was probably one of the few things he could really call _his._ Not that he _wanted _it, but since everyone else _did ,_he was amused by the fact that they couldn't physically get to it.

Now if he _really _wanted to, if he played his cards right, _he'd_be the one deciding where the child was going to end up once it was born. It was all a matter of positioning. Since Dante was so keen on attaining the baby, she was going to have to fight for it. He certainly wasn't going to make it easy for her when she hadn't exactly returned the favor.

So where would the baby go? There weren't many other people Envy would be willing to hand such a precious bargaining chip over to besides... Besides...

The Sin groaned

Besides the Curtis woman. And the Elrics. They were the only other people who would be suitable. Aside from taking it away _himself_, if he survived. But then again, what did he know about children? Nothing. He didn't even _like _children.

No, absolutely not. That was just a stupid idea. The baby would stay here, even if that meant he had to trust the care of She Who Burns Water and the Full Mental Idiot.

It was all a matter of positioning. Positioning and _allies._

Edward Elric, at this point in time was alot more tolerable than Dante.

Now Edward, _damn him,_had been there.

Envy couldn't clearly recall what had happened the day he'd attempted the Human Transmutation, only that it hadn't worked and there had been pain. Alot of pain. More than he'd ever dealt with in his countless years as a Homunculus. And not the _ordinary, _run of the mill pain either. It had been the crudely mortal division that could only be described as _excruciating_; the sick kind of agony that tears out your fingernails and grates the marrow from your bones like cheese. Wrings out spinal columns, splinters cartilage and punctures membranes. Envy had died before – many, many times - but those carnal injuries that lasted only for a second were mere prickles compared to the burning, tearing sensations of ripping skin, flesh that had seemed to antagonize him endlessly.

But, through it all, Edward had been there.

He had been _there._

And why? Who knew? Maybe the Elric didn't even know himself. But, nevertheless he'd sat with Envy through his long hours of suffering, even when the events beforehand would have easily justified him abandoning the Sin in favor of some slightly less gruesome entertainment. He'd done what he could to break Envy's dangerous trance and had remained beside him in patient vigil as sleep did its healing spell on the Shape shifter's tortured body.

He had been there. He hadn't left.

Not like some _other_Elrics Envy could name.

Now Envy knew there wasn't much left of him anymore. He'd been reduced to a state of... of _something._He was no longer a Homunculus, he wasn't human, and though he still felt very much like _himself,_he wasn't actually sure what that was supposed to be. Or if whatever he'd become was going to expire once the only part of him left with a soul, the baby, had been removed. Perhaps he would be allowed to live in this leftover shell? As a chimera of a kind – not one of human and animal, but one of life and death, suspended in tangible limbo.

Envy snorted to himself.

_Black and white _made grey. Life and Death made... something else. Something that probably wasn't very pretty. Two things could mix and become an original third, but there was always a certain amount of compatibility needed. Colours could combine and become tones or hues. States of being, however... Well, the living and the dead were more like oil and vinegar. You could add an emulsifier if you wished, but in the end you wouldn't get a very nice salad dressing.

_Now that,_the Sin swallowed forcibly. _Is a decidedly putrid mental image._

A knock on the door interrupted the stream of the Sin's thoughts and he quickly brushed his T-shirt back down over his abdomen as Edward entered the room carrying a small bowl. A thin curl of steam pirouetted from its rim and from the side a thick-handled spoon jutted carelessly.

"Since when do _you_knock?" Envy remarked with casual acidity as Edward set the bowl down on the bedside table.

"Force of habit," the Alchemist replied, his voice bearing a strange new level of patience. "Dr Warner said it would be okay for you to eat now."

"Yeah, and?"

"Well, we just happened to have some soup left over from lunch," Edward motioned to the bowl. "Izumi thought you might be hungry."

The Sin gave the harmless crockery a distrustful glare.

"Is it edible?"

"Izumi didn't make it if that's what you're trying to say."

"Well, she can't cook to save her life."

"You think I don't know that?" Edward rested his hands on his hips, a rueful smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "The only thing she _can_make that's reasonably consumable is pancakes – though I still wouldn't classify _those _as safe for children under three."

"I thought you Alchemists were supposed to be good at everything."

Edward raised his eyebrows, not at all expecting a comment like that to come from Envy's mouth. He waited a moment, perhaps for some sort of ornery contradiction, but the Sin didn't seem to think anything of it. He was merely roping the ends of his hair together between his slim fingers, looking _about_Edward - around him, but not actually _at_him.

"She just gets distracted." Ed shrugged, deciding that he was either hearing things or there was something _very_good, and probably very illegal, in the drip. "All the neighborhood kids have this astute sixth sense which informs them exactly when she starts cooking so they can interrupt her in the middle of it. Then she forgets where she's up to."

Envy seemed to consider this as he twiddled absently, but remained silent, discouraging any further conversation.

"So yeah," Edward dug his thumbnail into a rivet in his metal arm and ran it around the groove, distractedly. "If you want her to make something non-toxic, you've really gotta watch her."

"Hnn."

"Make sure she doesn't confuse the salt and sugar, that kind of thing. She's used the excuse that they're both kind of small, white and granule-y once too often."

"Elric..."

"What?"

"You're still here."

Edward blinked. Envy rolled his eyes up with apathetic grace to regard the Alchemist's slightly disconcerted expression.

"I'm going to eat it, alright? I don't need monitoring. You can stop testiculating now and piss off."

"Tes-what?"

"Waving your arms around and talking bollocks." Envy quirked an eyebrow. "Peace, quiet, me, room, you, door – got it?"

Edward gave his golden eyes a theatrical spin heavenward, but congratulated the fact that Envy seemed to be behaving himself for once. Nothing had been sent hurtling at his nether regions yet. That was usually a sign that the Sin wasn't too annoyed.

"Fine, whatever. Just don't tip it out the window."

Envy huffed as he watched Edward leave the room then slowly, by painstaking degrees, began to lever himself up a little in order to reach for the soup. It was a difficult task, since his entire muscular system seemed to have petrified itself into stiff, aching slabs and refused to let him move easily. Then, there were the raw splinters of pain which shot up for his lower body, which near audibly voiced its displease at being disturbed. But finally he got his fingers round the warmed rim and pulled the dish over, resting it on the convenient shelf of his stomach.

The food was remotely satisfying. Not particularly tasty, but warm and filling – substantial, which gave Envy the idea that Shigu might have made it. The man didn't seem to have much of an imagination, but he could manage most things on a basic, no-frills level. Not that Envy would have known any better, having been on a type of compulsory lent for the past hundred years or so, but he'd guessed that the meaty broth presented to him hovered at the lower end of the culinary difficulty scale.

However, after he had fished the last drop from the bottom of the bowl, Envy found himself hungry for something else. Not just hungry either, _craving._And it punched him, hard, in one of his more susceptible areas: his sweet tooth.

He wanted, no, he _needed_... a thing. A _sweet_thing. Very sweet. And sort of... Cakey. With nuts. Chocolate. Chocolate definitely had to be included in there somewhere.

Envy tapped his spoon against his chin, thoughtfully.

_Now, how to go about _getting _it?_

* * *

><p>Izumi took the Homunculus in both hands and placed it gently inside the transmutation circle.<p>

The flesh had turned cold and stiff in the biting predawn air. It had died shortly after its segregation from Envy's body, rigor mortis settling in the spongy material mere hours after it had been born.

It felt completely disgusting.

Correction, it _would _have felt disgusting, if half of Izumi's senses hadn't all but flatlined. Though she was still functioning enough to think and take care of things, shock had proved to be quite a powerful anesthetic and was currently silencing any grumbled complaints her body was trying to notify her about.

Such as how the slick, uneven texture of the small chunk of Homunculus would have made her fingers vomit, had they the ability.

Such as how the skin about her left patella nipped at the surrounding nerves because she'd grazed her knee rather badly on the side of the boat as she'd leapt out of it.

Such as how she was still chilled from her prolonged exposure to the thick, dewy mist that hung about the small inland sea. Luckily Shigu had insisted upon rowing her out to the island, otherwise she might have killed herself in her headstrong haste.

But she had to do it. The creature just didn't belong in this world as it was, even in death. Burying it just didn't seem the _proper _thing to do; it was too inhuman for that. She wouldn't have felt any different it she'd have been disposing of a bad carcass or rotten vegetables. No. It came from the Gate and therefore it should return there.

Envy may or may not have agreed, but that was beside the point at the moment. Edward had been aiming toward the right idea when he had taken the Sin from his room; though he recived ascolding for getting the Shape shifter wet and completely destroying the thick dressings about his wound, Envy did look a world better than he had when she and Christopher had finished with him. The furrowed shadows had left his face and though he still looked debilitated and worn, he did not appear to be teetering on the verge of death anymore. Something about him seemed almost peaceful – though Izumi knew she was taking drastic liberties with the word when referring to Envy.

She almost hadn't believed it when Edward told her what the Sin had done. Not the fact that he was able to _use_alchemy, that didn't surprise her. After all, who really knew whether the Homunculi were telling the truth when they said they couldn't do it? Perhaps they just couldn't be bothered learning or lacked the skill. Creating the Philosopher's Stone might have been a feat beyond their reach, but who said they couldn't manage something a little less spectacular?

Wrath had used basic transmutations to morph his Homunculus body – though admittedly that was with the aid of Edward's estranged limbs. But say, perhaps if the Homunculi could incorporate something human into their bodies - such as an arm or a leg or, in Envy's case, a baby - perhaps then they'd be able to use the practice?

Izumi sighed and traced around the intricate patterns of the old transmutation circle etched into the cold damp earth with her finger. She was thinking too much into things. If the Homunculi had been able to perform alchemic experiments on their own, they would have done so already. Though she had only met two in her entire life, she got the impression that artificial humans would run an idea into the ground until it was dead, then run over it a few more times just to make sure.

If Envy had wanted to get rid of the baby so badly, he would have tried the Human Transmutation long ago - he obviously hadn't known he could do it with his altered body. The reality was that he _had_done it. What really surprised her, what _really _made her breath stall, was the fact that he'd done it so _well._

Successful, of course, was not a word familiar with Human Transmutations. But he'd done it so quickly, so quietly, so _efficiently_that she hadn't even noticed him preparing for it. All he'd needed was one set of notes. Of course, she'd reasoned, they were the _Elrics'_old notes. Yet something about his ability to decipher them screamed Elric talent as well.

The reality was, he _had done it._

Though Izumi was beginning to think that trusting reality was like trusting a house made out of straw – one day the big bad wolf of the unknown would come along and level it in order to build a completely new idea.

Taking a few seconds to rub the fatigue from her eyes and calm herself, Izumi corrected the position of the offering within the center of the circle, clapped her hands, and braced herself.

The Gate opened.

And something inside smiled with a mouthful of too many teeth and reached greedily toward the corpse.

* * *

><p>"We've got the information for you, sir," Riza stated casually, plonking a pile of papers on her superior's desk. "However, if you'd be so kind as to take a look at these documents-"<p>

"So, where is he going exactly?" Roy interrupted, skillfully ignoring the growing mountain range of assorted administrative duties before him. "He's been absent for nearly seven months with the exception of an occasional appearance every fortnight or so."

"He's been visiting Dublith, Sir," the First Lieutenant nodded her head slightly, making the tips of her blonde hair bounce in the confines of its decorative clip. "So I understand, his former teacher lives there. Perhaps he's simply studying alchemy again with her. Honing his skills?"

"He wouldn't just _leave_his investigations on the Philosopher's stone," Roy interjected, heatedly. "He's got to be plotting something up there."

Riza resisted the tempting urge to roll her eyes, instead kept her face as calm and neutral as she could while her superior steepled his fingers and glared over them into space.

"He's plotting something... _Plotting..."_

"Sir?"

"Lieutenant," Roy snapped back to the world, to his faux-businesslike demeanor, and straightened a little in his chair. "I suggest we launch an investigation on Fullmetal's whereabouts and find out exactly what his plans are in Dublith. Those under my command don't run off on personal missions without my consent!"

"I'm sure it's nothing serious, Sir," Riza replied with practiced tolerance

_"... running about behind my back trying to get one up on me he's not gonna.."_ Roy continued under his breath. Riza pretended not to hear him.

"Sir, Fullmetal is scheduled to return to Central in ten days, perhaps you could ask him about his activities then?"

"_... and he'll never get to move above the-_ what? He's coming back?"

"Yes, sir."

"How do you know that?"

"He _does_send us correspondence, Sir. At least I get notifications from the office that he does. It _is_considered common practice to let a commanding officer know of your movements while on extended leave and he's done so the entire time he's been away. It's not a case of his going AWOL."

"But-"

"It would be much easier for you to confront him in Central. Then we wouldn't waste time and travel expenses by making unnecessary trips to Dublith."

"But-"

"And the Department of Internal Affairs _and _the Ministry of Justice have been waiting for you to approve these documents for over a week. It would be best to get them out of the way, Sir."

Mustang gave Hawkeye the kind of look potential roadkill does to oncoming headlights.

"_All _these?"

"If you please, Sir." Riza tried very hard not to smile as she cracked a sharp salute toward her Colonel and marched out of the room. Behind her, she heard the huff of a particularly dejected sigh and the squeak of an office chair as Roy got up from his desk.

Riza shook her head. Mustang was completely useless when he had nothing to do but paperwork. He was probably going to start polishing the windows.

That would be the fifth time this week.

* * *

><p>Walking was a lot harder than it seemed when you hadn't done it for a while.<p>

Envy clenched his teeth as he limped pathetically down the hallway, leaning hard against the wall for support. It had only been a week since his stitches had been removed and while Doctor Warner said he had been healing remarkably well, it probably wasn't the _best_idea for him to be upright just yet.

But despite the aches and tightness of muscles in places Envy never _considered _having, he was determined to get downstairs to the kitchen. The kitchen was his newfound Shangri-La. Because the kitchen not only contained _food,_it also contained people. Or, more precisely, _entertainment._ And entertainment by way of distraction was something else that the Sin craved apart from the odd sugary tidbit. He never thought he'd be one to seek the company of others, but he was cursed with a despicably short attention span. Sitting in his room recovering quietly was something he'd already done before and he didn't have the patience for a repeat performance.

He was bored.

Absurdly, impossibly, _inconceivably _bored.

Though throwing things at people used to keep him amused, he didn't really feel justified doing it now. The entire household had appeared to change their attitude toward him just as he had to _them._Izumi no longer harassed him with her examinations – instead leaving the task of monitoring Envy and the baby's health to her doctor-friend. Since he'd agreed to the taste of Shigu's plain, uninteresting cooking, the man made all of his meals – despite the fact that he probably had a number of better things to do than play chef. Mason, knowing Envy's love of projectiles, had managed to obtain an old dartboard from the pub and he and Alphonse had spent the better part of an afternoon attaching small strings to the tails of the darts in order to make them retrievable without Envy having to get up from his bed.

Envy had been undeniably surprised by this. They really trusted him enough to entertain him with sharp objects?

They were being _nice,_so damn _nice! _What was a pregnant bad guy to do when he was grasping at bitchy-straws? He honestly didn't have the mental ammunition to be caustic anymore – not when everyone else was being so genteelly alkaline.

And then, after everyone else... Last but not by any means least, there had been Edward.

Edward.

Envy halted his ambling at the top and the stairs and stood panting a moment, one hand pressed against the wall, the other gripping the nule post at the top of the stairs.

Edward was...

Edward _was..._

Edward was probably one of the very reasons Envy hadn't lost himself completely to a sinkhole of self-pity. The Alchemist, though he was definitely _around_, had been keeping his presence scarce, save to deliver a meal or to take a plate away every now and again. Envy saw more of Izumi and Warner than he did of the elder Elric, but even with such sparse contact he couldn't keep the image of the blond out of his head.

The dreams had begun again. The dirty, steamy, raunchy dreams that usually wrenched the Sin from his sleep in a cold sweat and a horrible fear of his body relishing its desire as _physically _as it had the last time. He had developed a new respect for his sheets and he certainly didn't want to soil them when he couldn't move to clean them!

The thought of Edward, the _fantasies_of Edward – all seemed to take top priority in Envy's mind and though he tried to mull and bellyache to himself about his unfortunate position, he always seemed to end up wondering how _exactly_that long, sun bleached hair would feel running across the sensitive webbing at the base of his fingers?

How _exactly _he managed to squeeze into those tight black trousers that made his arse look so delectably _grab-able?_

How _exactly _would those lips taste after they'd been stained with raspberry juice as Edward brought him the fruit having guiltily sampled the offering first himself?

Envy had to give himself some internal pummeling – reminding his poor, hormonally addled mind that Edward was The Enemy. The Enemy who, when the Sin was out of this mess, would expire in the most deliciously contemptible of ways.

Would have all he'd ever loved obliterated, slaughtered in front of his very eyes.

Would be tortured by Envy as he saw fit in the most _vilest_of manners.

Would have to go and take care of the baby. Would...take...baby... Would...

_Oh fuck, that's not going to work._

And just as Envy was trying to figure out _how_ he'd destroy Edward and company _whilst_charging them to care for the child, said Enemy would enter the room bearing something sweet and distracting and tell him politely how nice it was outside and would he like a window open?

At that moment, all the treacherous thoughts in Envy's head would run screaming for the proverbial hills as a tumult of raw desire flooded over his conscious mind, drowning any other stray nuances in a tickling tide of pins and needles.

For the brief period of time that Edward stayed in the room, the Sin found himself detailing every single aspect of his being – from the way he sometimes hitched the corner of his mouth into a tiny, mysterious smile for absolutely no apparent reason to the way his hair stuck out in funny directions if he hadn't bothered to wash it for a few days. His scent; the multitude of colours in his eyes – they weren't _just_gold; the way his Automail arm twitched every now and again as the machinery unconsciously corrected a fault in the nerve positioning; the way he sometimes clipped the ends on his sentences and splayed words under a relaxed tongue of adolescent laziness.

Envy wasn't sure if he was listing and memorizing all these intricate details about Edward merely for the sake of something to do, or because his dastardly brain wished to re-create the visage in his mind later for his cantankerous libido to play with, but one thing was for sure. Though the drip had been taken away soon after Envy was able to hold a meal down and the administrations of the painkillers had been reduced to mere shots once a day, Envy knew he was on a drug of another kind.

One that was blond, vertically challenged and completely oblivious to the Sin's embarrassing crush.

Envy gulped, shook his head and feebly made his way down the stairs – taking each step as slowly and carefully as he could. After what seemed an eternity he reached the haphazard turf of the hallway tile and began to shuffle stiffly toward the door to the kitchen, only halting before it abruptly as he caught snippets of the conversation inside.

"No, no, Nii-san! You've done it wrong! It's all sticky now!"

"I did _not!_You're the one who shoved yours in too quickly!"

"But Nii-san, yours it wetter than mine!"

"It's _supposed _to be, Al. Now look, if we hold on to mine, but put a bit more of yours in, it'll work, won't it?"

"Ah! That's perfect Nii-san! Does it taste good?"

"_Really _good, Al. I think we've got a winner here..."

There was a pause as the Sin struggled to get an idea of the scenario the conversation was linked to _without_thinking of anything mildly distasteful before he gently pressed his palm against the door and pushed it open.

The Elric brothers were standing at the kitchen table with two large ceramic bowls sitting inconspicuously before them while the rest of the work surface was littered with packets and containers of ingredients. By the way half of the above had been carelessly strewn and spilled about the wooden tabletop and benches, the entire kitchen appeared as though it had suffered some sort of culinary meltdown.

Al looked up.

"Oh, hello Envy! Would you like to help us? We're trying to make cookies..."

Envy huffed and went to retort that no Homunculus in his right mind would be _seen_either making cookies or doing anything _remotely _cookie-like but when Edward swiveled on the kitchen chair and looked at him expectantly, his tongue frozen in mid-lick on a large wooden spoon, all of Envy's hanging comments were as good as flushed down the toilet.

Instead he muttered:

"Nffhs..."

And promptly exited the kitchen without even turning around. The door slammed shut behind... well, _in front_of him.

"That was...unexpected," Al commented, slowly.

"Yeah," Edward blinked in surprise. "I thought he'd tell us to fuck off."

Well, he might have done, had Envy not completely forgotten his entire vocabulary save for a small thesaurus of words that bounced around the idea of 'sex' and 'arousal'. But nonetheless he stood soundlessly in the hallway, trying desperately to stop his libido from cooking little popcorn sensations in his groin - enough for him to at least _attempt_to remember how to climb the stairs again.

However, as he began to coax his limbs into _some_kind of movement (while trying to stop _another_part of him moving completely), Izumi's voice sounded from behind the door. At first it was calm and smooth, inquisitive. It asked questions. The boys replied. Then it got pissed off.

"Oh, so you're trying to _fix_my cooking were you? Don't think I can throw together a batch of cookies, eh?"

There were yelps as several crashes reverberated off the soupy kitchen wallpaper.

"But they're _salty, _Sensei!"

"Yeah, we'd be better off eating the tray!"

"You're lucky you're not eating my _shoe, _you little runts! Get out!"

There was the sound of more projectiles being propelled against the walls, and also against things that _weren't _as solid as the walls. The door flung open again and both Elric brothers shot out of the kitchen and up the stairs, followed closely by a rather crimson-cheeked Izumi.

"You can start giving _me_cooking lessons when you can cook better than _I_can, you useless students!" she yelled from the bottom of the stairs, shaking her fist dramatically after them. "You two had better be ready by the time the next batch is done or I'll make sure you get the duds to eat on the train!"

She exhaled impatiently and turned to walk back into the kitchen – only stopping when she noticed Envy leaning dazedly against the wall.

"Envy?" the woman looked him over, concerned. "What are you doing out of bed? Are you alright?"

Envy's eyes flicked from the path of the stairs to Izumi's face and, registering her concern, he gave a light nod. Then, to her amazement, he turned and limped into the kitchen – easing himself into one of the chairs at the table. A frown folded over the woman's forehead as she wandered in after him.

Ever since the Homunculus episode, the Sin had never failed to surprise her with his strange new well-behaved attitude and his growing tolerance toward the rest of the household. She'd tried to put it down to shock, or possibly grief, but it seemed those descriptions didn't _quite_fit the bill of his new temperament. He'd actually been convinced to play a game of darts with Al the other night. _Played_a _game._Did Envy even _do_games?

And now he was just sitting quietly at the kitchen table, silently etching patterns in the spilled flour that coated the work surface. If this had been several months ago, Envy would have been on her case immediately, informing her of how disgusting her kitchen was or how she'd never get anything right because she was just _useless_ when it came to cooking or alchemy or anything else for that matter. But no, he was just... sitting there.

"U-um," Izumi gave a nervous laugh as she strode over to the head of the table, running the side of her palm through the spilled ingredients to sweep them into an equally messy pile. "I guess I'd better get started on the good batch..."

Envy said nothing; instead he picked up one of Izumi's previous attempts and sniffed at it curiously.

"Are they _really _salty?" the woman tried again, still cleaning up the bombsite on the table.

The Sin scrunched his face up horribly as he tested the side of the biscuit with the tip of his tongue.

"What did you say these were supposed to be?"

"Cookies," Izumi stated lamely, already feeling slightly ludicrous. "They're not very good, are they..."

"I think you'd find less salt in the ocean,"

"Oh,"

"I mean, even someone in the latter stages of malnutrition would turn their nose up at these..."

"Should I throw them to the birds then?" Izumi sighed; Envy threw her a withering look.

"Well, you'll certainly be protecting them against goiter if you do."

Izumi looked crestfallen. Envy shook his head impatiently.

"You're not going to make them just pissing about sighing like that! Gimme the... thing. Instructions..."

"The recipe?" Izumi picked up a thick, heavy book from beside her bowl and gave it a shake, knocking at least a cup of flour out of the crease of the spine. She smoothed down the page with the recipe on it and placed it in front of the Sin. "Here."

Envy squinted at the book for a little while, trying to pretend he knew what he was doing. Then he looked up at the assembly of packets on the table and rubbed his neck with the heel of his hand.

"Is everything here?"

Izumi nodded.

"Flour, baking powder, sugar, butter, eggs, chocolate, nuts... bit of vanilla... It's all here."

"And do you have," he looked closer at the print and cocked an eyebrow._"Tisspins?"_

"What?"

"Tisspins." He turned the book around and showed her, his finger under the word. "Those things."

Izumi started to laugh.

"No... That's an abbreviation. It's referring to a _teaspoon."_

"Shut up," Envy shot back, crankily. He got up from the chair and observed the display in front of him, a slow, anticipating smile creeping over his lips. Cakey things? Sweet things? Chocolate? Well, it was all here, just not _constructed_ as such.

Izumi watched him with growing apprehension – wondering exactly _what_was running through his calculating mind. He wasn't seriously planning to... _cook,_was he? He couldn't be _that _bored!

"So," he gave a light shrug, desperately trying not to appear too eager or interested. "We start by doing something with cream?"

"No," Izumi corrected, a small grin tingling at the corner of her mouth. "First thing, wash your hands. _Then _I'll show you how to cream the butter and sugar."

Consequently, on the train later that day, Ed and Al were surprised to find the best batch of cookies Izumi had ever made in the basket she'd packed for them. What they _didn't_know was that this was _Envy's_handiwork.

So the Sin was good at cooking.

Izumi was _most _put out.

* * *

><p>Another person who had become mildly put out was Colonel Roy Mustang.<p>

Well, a little more than simply _put out._Put outwas putting it _lightly._

The thin, delicately gilded handle of the porcelain coffee cup was _not_meant to be clenched in such an incendiary manner and it clinked its alarm as Roy's gloved fingers clamped even tighter about its thin appendage as the small table clock in his office chimed six in the evening.

All day, he had been waiting. All _bloody _day.

And not _once _had the thin paper cut of an Elric shadow graced the doorframe of his office. Not even a glimmer of the little golden boy had dared sweep down the hall. Not once. Not even a _smidgeon_ of Elric. The little bastard had managed to return to Central, sign the necessary papers, fill out the leave documents as he was supposed to, speak to everyone _but_his superior, and make it back to his apartment without even _attempting_to sneak past the Colonel's door.

Not that Roy had been watching it like a hawk for approximately seven hours. No, not at all.

Of course, Fullmetal's absence had _nothing _to do with the fact that the Colonel was now standing outside the Elrics' dormitory room, one hand poised to knock while his legs, having had a quiet word with his military instincts beforehand, attempted to quietly sneak away in the opposite direction, toward the fire escape.

He just... wanted to know why Edward had decided to make himself so scarce about Headquarters. Usually if the boy wasn't on some mission of sorts he could be found researching his own _personal _quest in the library. He never just... disappeared. Not for such an extended amount of time either and _certainly_not without Roy knowing where he was. But it seemed the higher-ups thought nothing of his mysterious little escapades and though he'd tried to argue the case with Bradley, the cheerful receptionists at the main office had simply informed the rampant Colonel that the Fuhrer and his secretary were currently unavailable. But all of Fullmetal's recent expeditions had been approved, so there was no need for him to worry.

_There is, _Roy thought savagely. _When the one who approved them wasn't _me!

The whole thing reeked like an aged can of sardines. Roy could have _sworn _that Edward was going behind his back, but then again, what was he to gain from that? Nothing but a rift in the Colonel's trust. And that was a dangerous thing for an Elric to do... With the amount of information he'd endorsed in Roy, he couldn't _afford_to try his patience.

So why was he pulling the vanishing act?

Roy strung his wits together, reassembled his usual seamless facade and rapped his knuckles on the door. A few tense moments passed as, by the sounds coming from behind the door, the room inside seemed to fall apart. But finally it opened and was replaced by the slightly disheveled face of Edward Elric.

"Colonel?" He regarded his commanding officer with foggy bewilderment. He'd been sleeping; the evidence was there in the way his hair had escaped from its standard loose but tidy braid and in the thin crust of drool in the corner of his mouth. Roy flicked the hem of his jacket in a subconscious attempted to tidy himself, as though Edward's slovenly appearance was going to rub off on him in a spore-like, symbiotic kind of way.

"It's been awhile, Fullmetal."

"It has." Edward's hackles were up at once. And respectively Roy let a silent chuckle settle in the back of his throat. The kid _always_counted some sort of altitude jest from his superior. Even in his drowsy state his pride still managed to stand guard.

"I wonder," Mustang went on. "Why you have been so insistent on distancing yourself from Headquarters? Is there something or someone here that bothers you?"

Edward goggled at him for a moment, entertaining Roy with his laughably close impersonation of some exotic, golden-eyed fish; before he ratcheted an embarrassed hand through his hair, flinching as a finger caught on in a snarl.

"I- I,um, I was visiting family..."

"What family would that be, Fullmetal? According to our records the Elric family comprises of only-"

"No, I mean Sensei... I was... Ah, that is, me and Al were visiting our teacher." Edward flexed his fingers nervously in his sunny mop, trying to loosen them. In his flustered state he'd accidentally used his right hand as a comb – something he'd normally refrain from doing as now the joints and grooves in his Automail had gotten caught in the tangle.

"For seven months?"

"We've been gone that long?" the young Alchemist let out a shaky, exaggerated cackle that was far too loud for it's own good. "Time really flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?"

Mustang leaned back and examined his subordinate with intense scrupulation. He had previously considered the fact that Edward might still be in shock about Hughes... But he certainly didn't _act_like someone in shock. Roy had seen people in shock; he'd_lived_the aftermath of the Ishbal massacre. This wasn't a reaction to Hughes.

And besides, Edward had been visiting Dublith long before he'd found out about his Lieutenant Colonel.

"Anyway," Ed continued, oblivious to his commanding officer's suspicious gaze, as he gripped his right wrist in his left hand and began a nonchalant attempt at scalping himself. "Why are you bringing this up _now?_We've always filled out the proper forms and let people know where we are." _Or around about... _he added, under his breath. "Really, we've been yo-yoing there and back for so long I thought you were aware of what we were doing!"

"Believe it or not," Roy replied, dryly. "None of the information of your whereabouts has never been forwarded to me."

"Never?" Edward stopped tugging for a moment, his features twisting with perplexity.

"No, never." The Colonel kept his charcoaled gaze smoldering over the small figure in front of him as it continued, unabashed with its unbearably slapstick tug of war.

"Then how did I get the order to return for womble duty?" Ed bit back a yelp as he wrenched his hand free. " _Somebody _must have known where I was!"

"I sent the order to _Risembul."_Roy knotted his arms over his chest.

The smooth forehead crumpled into deep terraces that were far too advanced for someone Edward's age as he tried to figure out _exactly_how the mail hiccup would have worked. How could the order, which had been sent to Risembul, have ended up in Dublith? Granny wasn't intheir hometown to take care of the mail and there was no one else who could have had the authority, so who had done it? Lust? The other Homunculi? But what would possibly be the point in taking him _away_from Envy? Surely they'd want him to remain close to the Sin? However, they might just want him to appear normal for the time being. To remove suspicion.

_I spent six weeks elbow-deep in dunnies to appear normal?_

But as Edward's blood began to boil at the preemptive accusation of just how _annoyingly _meddling the Homunculi could be, the chunky figure of Alphonse materialized behind him in the doorway, timidly clasping its gloved gauntlets together in near apologetic politeness.

"U-um, actually, Nii-san, I just got the Risembul post office to re-direct the mail."

Crimson skidded over tanned, young cheeks.

"You... you did?"

"Mm," Al nodded. "I thought it might be important if we got an order for a mission or something."

Ed blinked.

Mustang gave a complaisant cough.

"Regardless of where you are, I'd still prefer it if you two would contact me directly. I _am _your commanding officer, Fullmetal."

"But we _were_writing to you!" Ed exclaimed. "All those status reports I filled out I specifically sent to your office! It's not _my _fault if you didn't get them!"

Roy went to say something, then thought better of it.

"Well, if you've been back to Central regularly aside from the time when I put you on janitorial duty, you should have reported in!"

"Each time I tried to see you, you weren't in your office. The women at reception usually took my reports."

"What, _every_time you came to see me?"

Edward nodded slowly. Now that he thought about it, that _was_ rather odd.

"Actually, I saw the Fuhrer most of the time. And he said reporting in to him was just as good, because you were snowed under with administrative work from the Eastern Headquarters transfer. Still."

Roy gave another cough that was closer to a choke and scrubbed the tread of his boot against the linoleum floor. Oh right... the paperwork...

"Incidentally," the blond continued. "Have you seen the Fuhrer's secretary at all? I wanted to...uhh." Edward wracked his brain for excuses. "Ask her... about... something." He cringed at the weak statement and hoped Roy wouldn't notice.

Of course, the curious statement was as just as good as underlined in fluorescent yellow and decorated with flashing LEDs. But whether Roy noticed or not, he didn't say anything. He simply shrugged and flicked his thorny black fringe into place.

"I understand she has been on leave as well."

"Ah."

Silence wailed like a banshee down the corridor as both men regarded each other with cagey glares.

"Are you sure there isn't anything else you wish to tell me, Fullmetal?" Mustang asked carefully. Edward grunted and curled the corner of his mouth into a smirk, brazen smugness obscuring his wavering unease.

"You're worried that I'm upping my alchemy skills so I'll beat you next time we duel aren't you?"

Roy sighed.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Well, then, no. There's nothing weird going on in Dublith." Ed rocked the door slightly on its hinges. "Al and I are just training."

The Colonel gave him one last suspicious glare before snapping a salute as a farewell of sorts.

_Just training, eh? _Roy snorted as he walked away. _We'll see about that..._

Three weeks since the climactic Homunculus episode and eight days after Ed and Al had left for Central saw Izumi Curtis butting her head forlornly and with dogged repitition, into the brightly painted butchery shop front.

Winry smiled apologetically, if not nervously, as she juggled the large bag of cookies along with the box of miscellaneous assorted baked products in her grasp.

"He's driving me _insane!"_

"Oh Izumi! Surely he can't be _that _bad? He's just entertaining himself, isn't he?"

"That's what _I _thought at first too," the woman groaned. "But it's gone _way_beyond a hobby now. It started out with him just helping me concentrate on the recipes so I'd make something that was reasonably edible, but then he just got _good _at it."

"Good?" Winry raised her sandy brows.

"_Really _good." Izumi sighed and dug her fingers into her temples. "Honestly, I think he's just about baked every single biscuit in that book. And when he was done with that he moved onto the cakes. Then the puddings. We have so much _goddamn _food in this house I've had to open a cake stall next to the butchery to get rid of it. Andhalf the kids in the neighbourhood have put on at least five pounds each thanks to him!"

"Well, at least you're getting some money out of it."

"Hah, well, he did _try _to take a percentage of the profits," Izumi smirked. "But I just reminded him that he was using _my _ingredients... not to mention my facilities and premises. And if he insists on playing by the Real Worldrules, then there would also be the matter of his rent and meal costs. Now all _that _would take a sizeable cut out of his earnings."

"Did that shut him up?" Winry gave up on trying to hold both packages at once and with an uncoordinated fumble half-dropped, half-threw the cake box on the ground.

"In a way."

"What do you mean?"

"He started," Izumi squeezed her eyes shut as if Envy's current fastidiousness was a painful experience, "_Cleaning..."_

"Cleaning?"

Izumi covered her face with her palms.

"I _see_... Um, well, Ed should be back soon, shouldn't he?" Winry reminded her, patting the woman on the back in consolation. "Perhaps he'll be able to entertain Envy somehow..."

"One can only hope," Izumi muttered, grimly. "He's coming back this afternoon. But that just doesn't seem soon enough."

"You'll hold out." Winry gave another one of her famous pep-rally smiles.

"Say," Izumi looked up again with a strange light in her eyes. "Why don't you give him a bit of an introduction to Automail mechanics? I'm sure he'd _love _to gain another skill he could show off about..."

"Uhh, I don't think he'd _really _be interested." the blonde replied quickly, holding up her palms in apology as best as she could with a packet of biscuits curled in her right fist. "Even Ed tends to go cross-eyed when I start explaining how his arm works."

"Are you sure?"

"Indubitably."

_"Damn."_

A light wind picked up around them, scattering the dust at their feet. The midsummer air was hot and stifling, though the sudden breeze cooled the sweat on their skin. Winry leaned back a little and looked up the road, swinging her long ponytail away from her neck She frowned.

"Speaking of Ed," Winry said slowly, raising a palm to shade her eyes from the sun. "Isn't that him there?"

"Where?" Izumi moved forward a little. "Ah yes... there's Al, too. But..." She squinted. "Who are the other people with them?"

"I'm not sure," the girl jutted her chin forward and licked her lips. "And if I'm not mistaken, aren't the others wearing the... the blue Central military uniform?"

"Well it definitely looks like..."

Both women exchanged a horrified look.

"Oh _crap._"

Consequently, if they could see that far ahead of them, the look on Edward's said pretty much the same thing. Four-letter word. Slightly different letters though. His contained an 'f'.

"What do we do? What do we _do?"_cried Winry as they bolted into the house, through the butchery.

"We can't get Shigu to stop them, he's gone out for the afternoon," Izumi moaned as they burst into the kitchen. Envy looked up from a pile of chopped vegetables and regarded them quizzically.

"What the hell...?"

"No time!" Izumi grabbed the Shape shifter's wrist and pulled him around the table. "Come on, we've got to get you out of here."

"Like fuck you will." Envy snatched his arm back irritably. "Because unless it's some sort of major catastrophe approaching, I'm not getting out of _anywhere!"_

"I suppose," Izumi snapped. "You _could _call the oncoming party of Edward's little military friends something of a calamity. But then again, I _really _don't know how protective you are of your secret little condition."

She poked him in the stomach at the last comment as if to point out that Envy definitely couldn't hide his pregnancy anymore – even behind the heavy folds of the T-shirt. Perhaps if he wore a small camping tent, but then that would have been even _more _suspicious than the rounded bulge in the front of his top. If not avant garde.

Envy did not need long to consider this. It took three seconds for the colour to vacate his face and only a further two before he was galloping toward the stairs, Winry in tow. Then, only a split second later, the door swung open and both Elric brothers rather sheepishly trotted into the room, herded by their Commanding Officer and his First Lieutenant.

The entire congregation halted in the middle of the kitchen, before Roy flicked a salute in Izumi's direction, which Riza mimicked instantaneously, and gave a light bow.

Edward shot Izumi a dark look beneath the curtain of his fringe as if to say, _Fucked if I know..._

And at the sudden, unwelcome infiltration of the Military into her home, Izumi's expression grew stormy.

"You have no right to enter my house," she barked. "Get out!"

Roy gave Hawkeye a sideways look and the woman nodded, making a brief gesture toward the open kitchen door. Hesitant footsteps sounded on the pavement outside. Mustang had brought the rest of his team with him. This could get... interesting..

"My apologies in disturbing you, Ma'am," he countered smoothly. "But we've been interested in why Fullmetal has been so secretive about his whereabouts as of late."

"You _what?"_Edward snarled, waving an accusing forefinger in Roy's direction. "I _told _you, we've been training!"

"You also told me you'd been filling out regular reports, but not even one of the aformentioned had graced my desk as of yet. Small wonder, perhaps, why we find ourselves here today."

"You think I'm _lying?"_

Edward was practically fuming and although Al's hand sat heavily on his shoulder in admonition, he squirmed uncomfortably – obviously keen on wiping the smirk off Mustang's face with his knuckles. Izumi recognized that look. She was fairly sure a similar version of it was currently gracing her own features. But, not wishing to start a fight that could turn nasty in her own kitchen, she stroked her temper and stretched a palm Ed's way.

"What is it you're trying to say, Colonel?"

"I believe Edward has been attempting forbidden alchemy practices in this house away from the areas in which he was permitted to indulge his knowledge." Roy stated, as though reading from a legal textbook. "And I would like to oversee what he was been doing."

_"You bastard, I have not!"_

"So, in essence," Izumi's voice rose to cover Ed's unintelligible steaming. "You want to search the house."

"Correct."

_"He can't just come in here and do that!"_

_"He does have a search warrant, Nii-san..."_

_"He can 'search warrant' my ars-"_

"Well, I guess it can't be helped, then." Mrs. Curtis shrugged stiffly. "I mean, if you _absolutely_ have to."

"Sensei!" Ed interjected, a note of panic sailing on his voice.

"It's all right, Ed, as long as they don't go into the guest bedroom, I don't mind."

"Why wouldn't we want to go in there?" Roy predictably challenged at once.

"Because Winry Rockbell is staying with us," Izumi explained. "And I think she was getting changed at this very moment."

And right on cue, there was a banging sound from upstairs.

"_Right_at this _very_moment, hmm?" the Colonel raised an eyebrow. "Well, perhaps Riza can have a briefly word with her. I'm sure the young lady won't mind if she pops in quickly. We don't have _all_day, you know..."

Izumi clenched her teeth. Riza obediently strode over to the door looking very much like she didn't _really _want to interrupt another girl in the state of undress, but halted at the sound of a door opening above them and two sets of footsteps on the stairs.

She froze.

Alphonse and Izumi held their breath.

Roy looked over to the door with mild interest.

Edward squeezed his eyes shut.

And Winry entered the kitchen, all blonde hair and smiles; gently towing another someone into the room.

Someone...

Riza gasped.

Roy gawked.

Someone...

_Someone..._

Someone _unbelievably _gorgeous.

The Colonel was indeed attracted to pretty things – women making up the majority of his obsessions. Though he didn't outwardly express his appreciation of a good-looking woman very often, he'd never before had his heart so brutally _kebabbed _by one of the opposite sex.

And there was no better word than _kebabbed_. At least he couldn't think of one at this very moment. Not when his brains had uncoiled from the confines of his skull and were dangling somewhere near his groin.

Roy looked the newcomer over slowly, ignoring the funny sounds Edward was making and the fact that the Curtis woman was desperately trying to hide her mouth without being noticed. Riza hadn't stopped staring at her, but Roy was fairly sure he could understand why.

In a misunderstanding kind of way.

Every aspect of the woman was perfect. From the way her long, dark hair was swept up into a romantic chignon, with light, curling tendrils dusting the sides of her neck, to the way her doe-like eyes glistened from beneath the heavy fringe of seductive lashes, so dark blue they almost appeared purple. She was wearing a long, demure – but pretty – maternity gown, and although she was heavily pregnant, Roy's libido whispered in his ear that she probably had a very _nice_figure under all cornflower blue floral material and why didn't he casually appropriate her number so he could investigate sometime?

The Amestris Military Colonel took a deep, reviving breath at the same time as Winry said:

"Sorry about that, she needs a hand getting dressed sometimes. Colonel Mustang, sir? This is Izumi's second cousin on the third side, twice removed. Her name is Env- er... Emilia."

"Emilia," Roy breathed.

"Emilia?" Riza repeated.

"Emilia," Izumi choked.

Emilia herself gave her audience a tight smile through glossed lips. Ed said nothing for he was concentrating too hard on not wetting his pants.

"Right, now that we're acquainted," Winry trilled, not missing a beat. "Shall we have a cup of tea?"

* * *

><p><em>The scent of pine needles and sap prickled against the inside of the creature's recently-formed nose while its fresh skin adjusted in spasms toward the nip of the early morning forest air.<em>

_Bones popped with relished complacency as it stretched it's neck - rolling its head from one shoulder to the other. The virgin sunshine was a cool bellini; sparkling and pale gold and frosted in dew like the condensation on the side of a glass._

_The creature lapped up the cool rays that filtered through the trees with a gluttonous tongue._

_Morning, it remembered morning.  
>And it grinned.<em>


	11. Low Five

**Dark Humor**

_Part 11: Low five_

It really is only the harvested, dried leaves of the evergreen _Camellia__Sinesis_, infused in boiling water and served with the optional addition of milk and sugar. But tea, the simple beverage itself contains the arcane ability to collaborate the most _unlikely_of altercations and seat them, so to speak, about a table to discuss an inevitable outcome – be it highly improbable or altogether realistic.

Tea, conventionality in a cup, is renowned as the universal peacemaker. With a hot mug of the lightly steaming infusion in their hands, one can deal with almost any catastrophe that is placed before them. However, if the chosen ultimatum is not to one's fancy, the cup is most handy to throw.

Now the entire group present at Emilia's unveiling had been cheerfully positioned about the kitchen table by young Miss Rockbell – she of whom had taken over the role of proficient hostess while the lady of the house was collecting her wits in order to look upon Envy in a pretty blue maternity dress (complete with false breasts and a shovel load of makeup) without losing them again entirely. The current catastrophe himself was unsuccessfully trying to ignore the very _interested_gaze of the Amestris Militia's Flame Alchemist while struggling to remain demure and ladylike. Although Envy had once been a master of disguise and duplicity, he was now discovering that when one is quite physically _not_a lady, the art of _portraying_one is in fact more difficult than it seems. Not to mention _cripplingly__embarrassing..._

Then, once the unlikely party each possessed a shell-like porcelain cup in hand (Izumi's good set, a present from Dante; the old bat _really_didn't understand the term 'practical' when it came to giving gifts), Winry proceeded in supplying them all with an additional crumbling chocolate chip cookie. The silence about the table became comparatively _crunchy_as the biscuits were politely chewed. Yet it did not come close to breaking the tension in the air, which swarmed thickly about the figures of Envy and Mustang – one of whom was desperately wishing the whole shebang over and done with, the other happily feasting his eyes upon a maternity brassiere stuffed with cotton handkerchiefs with _no__idea_it wasn't a genuine rack.

The bosom _connoisseur_ hacked into the side of his closed fist, clearing his throat.

"Now, Miss Emilia...Where did you say you were from?"

Envy cast a harrowed glance at Winry, but before he could open his mouth, the blonde let out a strangely equine giggle and patted the Sin's hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry Colonel, she's mute. Been like that all her life, poor thing…"

The pink-glossed mouth fell open. _Crippling__Embarrassment__now__evolves__to__Choking,__Shamefaced__Mortification__…_

"Are you alright?" Roy asked as Envy spluttered, pressing a hand to his false chest. He gave a minute nod in reply – eyes watering, mascara _sticking._

"Mute do you say?" Riza ignored them, twiddling a teaspoon between her fingers as if it were a substitute for the comfort of a gun's grip slotted in the cradle of her palm. "That's unfortunate. Does it run in the family?"

"Er, that is..." Winry fumbled, forgetting exactly how _much_of the story she'd formatted.

"No, no." Izumi stole the pass neatly. "Just Emilia. Bad fever when she was young, you see. They didn't have a very good pediatrician where she used to live."

"Where was that again?"

"The countryside further South, near Aerugo." Ed pitched in. "Her husband is-"

"A bastard. He works as a trader in Creta, selling his-"

"Soap!" Winry intercepted. "He makes soap. Er, and other home remedies. You know, all different kinds of-"

"Crap," Izumi shot her guest a disapproving glare. "Anyway, he's not been much of a _loving_husband, so to speak." _Cue__bitter,__unshed__tears__on__so-called__wife,_she thought and was almost surprised when, like the best of actors, Envy quickly responded as if reading her mind. "He wasn't too keen on kids, though Emilia could never understand why. She found out, of course – Harry already had _seven_of them to his _real_wife over in Creta."

Riza's blond eyebrows took a northward shuffle into her bangs.

"So when he disappeared after Emilia became pregnant, the poor girl traveled all the way to Creta to find out what had happened to him."

"And what _had_happened?"

"Well," Izumi chuckled. "Let's just say Mrs Harry the First had found out about her husbands southern comfort and was not _particularly_pleased. She forced them to split up and evicted Emilia from the country house which had actually been hers in the first place."

Roy's face at this point had quite horribly puddled into some kind of sympathetic landslide of an expression and most of the audience about the table couldn't bear to look at him for fear of revealing the joke. Riza, meanwhile, had crumpled her forehead into a frown – something which Edward _really_didn't like. He doubted if the Lieutenant would be fooled so easily by Emilia's pretty face or gentle tears; and he was correct. Riza smelled a rat. A big rat. She just wasn't quite certain where it was hiding.

"So you took her in?" the woman concluded. "But why has Edward been staying here as well?"

"It turns out Emilia was a bit of a closet alchemy fanatic," Izumi grinned inwardly at the speediness of her lie. "She's wanted me to teach her since she was little and was very pleased to meet my students when they came up for a visit."

"We're good friends now," Al contributed a trite uncertain.

"Yeah, she's really amazing. She doesn't put much into practice, but she knows alot," Ed added. "Al and I were going through our old notes with her."

"N-not the bad...well, not _those_ones anyway."

"You're keen to dabble in alchemy?" Roy commented, still in the process of removing the blue dress from Emilia with his gaze alone. "Perhaps you'd be interested in my own work? I _am_ known as the Great Flame Alchemist of Central."

"_Only__to__yourself!"_

"Oh we'd better not," Winry waved her palms about as though frantically trying to take flight from her chair. "Fire is, um, well she's allergic to f- uhh, I mean, she's a proctophobic."

"_Pyro_phobic." Izumi corrected as, under Envy's fresco of makeup, the Sin's cheeks were turning the colour of Persephone's traitorous snack food.

"A shame you cannot see my gallant performance then."

"Yeah," Edward rolled his eyes. "A _real_letdown. So, Colonel, about this property search..."

"Oh _that,_" Mustang made a dismissive gesture. "No need. It's obvious you have simply been entertaining your teacher's guest; I feel my curiosity has been sated. After all, I'm sure Emilia would know not to attempt anything dangerous while she is expecting."

The entire Curtis community shifted in an guilty movement somewhat reminiscent of a Mexican wave, while Riza very nearly planted her blonde head into her cup of tea. As it was, the desire to roll her eyes _this_time deemed entirely overwhelming and she fought valiantly to keep her gaze constant and neutral.

"Something in your eye, Lieutenant?"

"No Sir, but perhaps, if you're satisfied, we should be leaving," Hawkeye propositioned as levelly as she could through a jaw frozen by exasperation.

"We should?"

"You do not insist on bothering Edward further, do you? After all, he has proven himself to be residing in Dublith on innocent intentions."

"Yes of course," Roy gave a light cough and stood up. "Well, Fullmetal... I shall expect you to report in to me personally on your next visit. And do be sure to bring your _charming_friend to Central sometime. She may enjoy a tour of the Military libraries."

Edward fired his commanding officer a castrating look as both Roy and Hawkeye excused themselves with a neat salute – Roy's being stupidly inventive and elaborate; accessorized by a slanting, provocative smile of which almost made Envy's foundation melt – before stepping out of the kitchen into the waiting sunshine.

Izumi took a quick look at the kitchen clock as Edward followed them and whistled through her teeth. It had taken only eighteen minutes and forty-four seconds for five civilians to convince a Military Officer that a pregnant, ex-homunculus male was a _female_country cousin; hindered by a laughablymelodramatic past that had been fabricated posthaste with reference from a thin, curly-scripted romance novel Winry had picked up from the railway kiosk to read on the train. Everything about the brief conversation screamed farce, but it seemed the Colonel hadn't noticed thanks to Envy's good looks. Or the fact that most of the plays he'd escorted a starry-eyed lady friend to had not been pantomime.

The woman swiped the back of her wrist across her blow, clearing the beads of sweat, and gave a mirthful snort. Though she dreaded the condition of her ransacked makeup drawer, she had to admit, Winry had done a splendid job on making a woman out of the Sin. She'd never imagined Envy could pull off 'pretty' so well.

And to top it off: nice boobs.

At the same time, Edward watched Roy as he strode up the garden path, hands affably tucked in his pockets. All of Mustang's team were present, loafing against the side of the house and Breda shrugged, offering Edward an apologetic smile as if to say_'yeah,__we__know...'_. Falman was laughing silently, his tall frame shuddering with suppressed chuckles, while Fury gave the blond a half-hearted wave. Edward weakly returned the gesture, astounded at the factRoy had thought it necessary to include his entire squad on such a pointless expedition. But it seemed that was the perfect archetype of the Lieutenant Colonel – no clarification was necessary. Roy was in charge, therefore, Roy called the shots, however off-target they may be.

The group of soldiers inclined their heads a little in farewell before they pivoted to follow their commanding officer who'd already vanished around the side of the house. Only Riza hesitated on the doorstep and looked her superior over critically. Edward felt a trickle of foreboding run down his spinal cord. He didn't like that look. It was the kind that knew something he didn't want it to. The kind that found the empty whiskey bottles in the garbage and the girls' knickers in the side of the couch. It _deduced._ It bothered him.

"There is _one_question I'd like to ask, Edward." Hawkeye said slowly, _deliberately_. "If I may, that is..."

"Go ahead," Ed bit the inside of his lip, trying to stop his palms from sweating so much.

"Why would you come all the way to Central to report in? Why didn't you just go to the Southern Headquarters?"

The penny dropped. As did the entire piggy bank, so it seemed.

"Well," Edward swallowed hard. Reality, ever-practical, always turned up six steps ahead of the Alchemist _just_as he thought he'd done a fairly decent job of eluding it. "Because... because..."

"It seems that you've been avoiding the military on purpose," Riza lowered her voice. "I don't like to jump to conclusions, but I get the feeling you didn't want us to know you were here. And you _certainly_didn't want anyone at Southern Headquarters to know either."

"Didn't they close the block down?" Edward took a stab in the dark. "With the lag in assignments at the moment?"

"Partly, most of the soldiers are still in the East near the ruins of Ishbal. The others have remained near the New Settlements in the South. There was a disturbance there awhile ago."

"Oh... I remember that. It had to do with that ex-officer guy, Yoki, didn't it? Um, what's it like down there now?"

"The Ishbalites, though they're still a little uneasy, have been cooperating."

"Because Scar disappeared I suppose?" Ed frowned.

"Perhaps," Riza looked the boy over skeptically. "He wasn't in Central though, was he? Even though at the time of the murders all evidence pointed to him."

"I thought it was strange," Ed confessed. "I could have sworn the old Alchemist in the Ishbal camp had said he was going back to Liore to try to create the Philosopher's Stone."

"He was?"

"That's what I was told. But when the killings started, I got confused. I thought he might have been trying to make the stone in Central, because doing it in Liore might endanger too many of his own people. Attack of conscience... you know..."

"Edward, you should have told us this. You should have told the Colonel!"

"I was wrong anyway, wasn't I?" Ed shrugged. "Those murders, they were just the Ho- er, they were just the work of some completely insane homicidal maniac who'd managed to escape the explosion at the Fifth Laboratory and was trying to imitate famous killers – Scar being one of them. But Scar himself..."

"Was and _is_nowhere to be found." Hawkeye flicked her blond fringe out of her eyes "Yet regardless of what is happening now, or what _isn't,_ the offices in any Military Headquarters are always open. Please, Edward-san, I _know_something isn't right here."

"What do you mean?" Ed licked his lips nervously. "We've told you what's been going on."

"Er...yes." Riza's gaze darted away from his face and as she absently scratched as an invisible attrition, realization and humiliation hit Edward in a double whammy of _oh__fuck._Was that a blush darkening on the Lieutenant's cheeks? Was that_embarrassment?_"But Edward I, uh... I must acknowledge that Emilia and her condition is your personal business, as is your quest for the Philosopher's Stone."

"You mean," Ed paled. "You think...?"

"I won't let anyone know, you have my word." Riza assured him quickly as Ed chewed air a few times, struggling to pull together an opposing remark. "If you'd like; mind you, I'd advise it anyway, I can deter the Colonel from any further surprise visits. I understand this must be hard on you, but you realize I'm left to trust the judgment I'm not sure you possess enough of, considering the circumstances."

"Lieutenant?"

"Especially when you're capable of..." She faltered, wringing her hands awkwardly. "Well... you've _proven_what you're capable of...And you did so with the knowledge that Scar or these 'Homunculi' you speak of are still pursuing you."

"Lieutenant..."

"Honestly, Edward-san, _didn't__you__think__to__use__protection?"_

Edward's mind exploded with a sickening _fffwaht_against walls of his skull, spray painting them in bright shades of flabbergast. A thin, cold sheen of sweat pricked at his skin and his golden eyes widened in time with his mouth.

"puh-puh...pro..?"

"I- I'm sorry," Riza shook her head as she straightened a little, flustered and conscious of her prying. "I sound like I'm scolding you when it isn't my place. It's just... I'm surprised... that's all."

In Edward's mind the statement re-shuffled itself into: 'I'm disappointed in you, son,', but the boy chose to ignore it and nodded weakly instead, deciding it was better and much less _messy_to leave Riza to her own opinions. The Lieutenant seemed satisfied with this and smiled a little.

"Please, let us know if you run into any trouble you cannot handle. Any _further_trouble, that is."

"I will." Edward's head was still bobbing in affirmative. The rest of him being too stupefied with shock to stop it.

"I'll vouch you to that." The Lieutenant warned.

"I don't doubt it."

"Then take care, Edward Elric," Riza Hawkeye cracked another salute. "Perhaps I shall see you in Central upon your next visit?"

"In a month or so," Edward nodded, returning the formality. The small smile that flickered about the woman's lips widened and as she left the step, walking around the side of the house to catch up to the rest of her team she added:

"By the way, congratulations. She really is lovely."

It was lucky she'd turned her back at that point, for if she'd seen Edward's reaction to the passing comment, she would have been infinitely confused. Not that she wasn't already, of course, but in some situations, less is more.

Riza massaged the callus on her trigger finger absently as she fell into stride beside Roy. She had to admit, the events of the past eight months had readily disturbed her with their suspicious undercurrents, but those were a set of enigma she wasn't sure she could solve so effortlessly.

The oddness had begun just after Edward and Alphonse had mysteriously left their hospital beds in Central following the explosion in the Fifth Laboratory. Later, she had heard that there had been some trouble in Dublith, which Roy had been eager to investigate but had been cut off by the Fuhrer who'd already sent Major Armstrong to the Southern Town in Roy's stead. Then, almost _too_easily, the muscle maniac had returned to Central with the Elric brothers in tow.

Edward, at that point in time, had been complaining about his desire to travel East toward Liore once again, but he was soon busy with the cases of the strange murders that had mysteriously sprung up. He'd been occupied for awhile – as had they all – with the mysteries behind the crimes but then the CSI and the police monopolized the investigation and left them stranded in a sea of looping clues.

And after that, it all went quiet. Everything just _halted._

From the revolts of the refugee camps in the South East to the usual business in the Capital, the hiatus had been so bad that the satellites of Central Headquarters had to put most of their soldiers on a duty roster while others were simply handed the dreaded pink slip. Minor officers and many of the police turned to community work instead (which in cities like Aquroya was probably a good idea). The sightings of Scar diminished. The murders stopped. Then Edward himself disappeared.

The only thing that was left had been paperwork. An unbelievably _hideous_amount of mind-numbing, monotonous paperwork. That was all. Everyone just accepted it as a bad season – or a good one, depending on what side of the law you worked on. Everyone just _cooperated_. Something screamed convenience, but Riza just couldn't quite decide if she'd heard it right.

Now Edward's secret bothered her a little, though she was understating this inflection for the sake of her sanity. The minute she'd caught sight of Emilia, she'd guessed the truth behind the situation and was further convinced when presented with the girl's ludicrous background history. Of course, _some_ of the fable had a little shine of legitimacy to it: she didn't doubt that Emilia had had to move from her homeland, or that she could have been mute, or even that she had lost her house. What really hadn't rung true was the part about the husband. 'Harry' or whatever he had been titled did not exist. What _did_exist was the looming inevitability of a child whose father would only be pushing his mid twenties when the kid reached the double digits himself.

Hawkeye sighed a little, earning her a quizzical glance from the bespectacled Fury.

It was such a shame the Elric boys seemed to grow up in odd little clumps of discovery and mishap. It wasn't that they just _found__out_things, it was more like _things_found them, tied them down and beat them into acceptance. Now Riza didn't know Edward very well, nor would she even hazard to imagine the prospects of his sexual activity. But he just didn't seem like the _type..._

...Charming but mouthy, pretty blond, box of chilli chocolates – _that_was Edward Elric. Not sex-driven... not blokey... no, not at _all_interested in the landscape of a woman's body – the terrain of the library was _far_more interesting.

But then again, even _if_ their teacher had tried to inform them of the ways of the Real World, not the world in the books they so ardently worshipped, she didn't see them listening. She knew how boys worked, she'd had brothers. Sex to pre-teen, pre-_experimental_ boys was a picture in a book you looked at when Mum and Dad weren't around. You giggled when someone mentioned it and stood gaping in awe when older boys bragged about getting some. She doubted Edward Elric had really advanced much in the field of relationships – he'd just gone straight to the head of the class, dunce cap in hand.

Of course, there must have been times when it was possible Alphonse's sympathy couldn't _quite_reach the level of consolidation Edward craved. And as much as the boy dutifully reminded himself of his quest and goal, pleasure and oblivion could be quite the manipulative interventions. Alchemy was one thing in itself, but human nature could be just as dangerous. When humans need comfort... _Real_comfort. When humans aren't in a position to _think..._

Riza had to hand it to their teacher. Izumi Curtis deserved a medal for being an incredibly generous Samaritan, letting the little unconventional family stay together in peace during the military lull. Her longing hope was that, once his child was born, Edward might change his ideas on creating the Philosopher's stone. Even more hopefully: He might finally let it go. A child needs a father, not stories about one. The Elrics knew _all_about that. First hand.

Edward jogged round the corner of the house and watched as Mustang _et__al_ disappeared down the street, their blue-black outlines shimmering in the summer haze. He was a little afraid Mustang might cotton on the trick as Hawkeye had done, but when the soldiers were finally out of sight without once turning around, he was able to let out the breath that had been stretching his lungs. Shaking his head a little, he flicked up a loose stone by his foot and dribbled it back to the kitchen doorstep where Izumi and Winry were standing, smiling into the sunshine. As he approached them, the two women looked at him, looked at each other then burst into a volley of screeching laughter.

"That was... That was... Priceless! Did you _see_the look on that man's face?"

"I can't _believe_they fell for it!"

"Where on _earth_did you get an idea like that from, Winry?"

"We were going to hide in your closet," the blonde explained through a fit of giggles. "Then I saw that blue dress at the back and we went from there..."

"How did you convince him to wear it?" Izumi smeared a few tears away, with her fingertips.

"It was mostly _his_idea!" Winry fanned her face with her hand. "He said there was no way he was going to be clambering out windows or shimmying down drainpipes as he is. He said it would be better to present the truth to the, I quote, _stupid__humans_in a form they could accept. Then they wouldn't be as suspicious as they would be if they found us hiding."

"He says alot when he needs to, doesn't he..." Izumi remarked. Winry grinned.

"Weren't the boobs great though?"

"Oh they _were!"_

"Um, speaking of 'he'," Ed interrupted as the girls cackled, "Where did Envy go?"

"Upstairs, Nii-san," Al said, appearing behind them. "He left as soon as the Colonel and the Lieutenant were out of the room."

"Oh, right." Edward scratched under his thick plait hesitantly. "I guess I'd better see if he's alright."

"Mmm."

"Something wrong, Al?"

"Oh no, Nii-san," the armor did its best impersonation of a reassuring smile. "I'm just thinking, that's all. You'd better check on him." He jerked his thumb in the direction of the hall

"Sure," Ed cast his brother a dubious look then, walked past him into the house and when he was sure no one was watching, raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

_Another dart thudded listlessly against the checkered surface of the board earning a low whistle from the Sin._

_"More shots like that and you might actually end up not entirely crap at this game, Elric."_

_"Mm," Alphonse nodded happily. "Thank you for teaching me, Envy-san."_

_"Well it was either that or use you as a target." Envy scratched at the nape of his neck underneath the knot he'd gathered his long hair into. "But you're no fun 'cause the darts don't puncture that tin can you call a body."_

_"You wouldn't do that, would you, Envy-san?" Alphonse stopped concentrating on his final throw and looked over at the Sin in surprise._

_"I might," He replied breezily. "And stop calling me 'san', I don't care for titles."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"Don't be sorry, just don't do it."_

_"Sorry."_

_"Don- argh!" Envy slapped a palm to his forehead. "Whatever. Hurry up and lose already."_

_"Alright," Alphonse pretended not to hear him and stood back a little. He aimed, flexed his elbow a few times, then tossed the little dart toward the marked circular board secured on the back of the door. It landed on the outer band of green at the segment marked '12' with a dull 'phut'._

_"Twenty-four," Envy reported. "Plus sixteen, plus twenty-seven."_

_"Sixty-seven," Al added after a moment._

_"Still crap, but not as bad as you were," Envy pushed himself up a little on the bed. "At least you're hitting the board now. Gimme the darts."_

_The metal boy nodded and obediently trotted over to retrieve the little pronged missiles, dropping them into Envy's outstretched hand. The Sin didn't bother to take aim and flicked the darts at their target in easy succession. All three hit the centre bull's eye._

_"One hundred and fifty," Envy yawned. "I win."_

_"Congratulations."_

_"Elric," the Sin stopped stretching his jaw and cracked one eye open at the younger boy. "I've beaten you seventeen times in a row. You can stop saying that already."_

_"Sorry," Alphonse shrugged with a metallic clunk. "But you're very good at this game."_

_"I've had a lot of time to perfect my shot," Envy said, leaving out the fact that 'perfecting his shot' pertained to his previous gleeful obsession of throwing knives into other people's eyes. "Anyway, I had a pretty good teacher, myself."_

_"Who was that?" Al asked, tugging the darts out of the board._

_"Just... another one of the Homunculi," the Sin replied shortly. "One who was pretty fond of pub games when we weren't on duty – so to speak."_

_"Greed was staying in a bar," Alphonse threw in, offhanded._

_"Hn," Envy snorted and glanced out the window at the blackened, star-pocked sky. Al twiddled the darts in his gauntlets, nervously._

_"Um, another game?"_

_"We'll go best out of twenty," the Shape shifter agreed. "Then you can piss off and go bug your brother or something. Honestly, I'm not sure which one is us is supposed to be more bored in this damn house, me or you!"_

_"Sorry," Alphonse tapped his boot against the floorboards sheepishly. "But Nii-san and I have been running out of things to do lately as well."_

_"What do you mean?" Envy looked up, bewildered. "I thought you two were constantly blathering on about the Philosopher's stone?"_

_"Oh we aren't right now," the metal boy stated, strangely blasé, and flung his first dart._

_"You're not?" Envy tried not to sound incredulous, but failed miserably. "Have you both gone insane? I thought that was your 'life mission' or whatever..."_

_"Nii-san just... doesn't want to at the moment..."_

_"He doesn't want to?" Envy repeated, feeling a little like a parrot. "What kind of an answer is that?"_

_"Well," Alphonse threw a second dart, not at all fazed by the conversation. "Sometimes we look at books and notes we've made on certain people when we go back to Central. But it's been so quiet lately... There's been nothing for us to follow... Even Scar-san has vanished. You know..." He reflected, thoughtfully. "Since you've been here with us, there haven't been any other instances relating to the Stone at all."_

_Envy said nothing and picked at an invisible spot on the blankets._

_"Is that because the other Homunculi don't want us getting into trouble while we're looking after you?"_

_"You're not 'looking after' me," Envy grumbled, secretly applauding the younger boy's apt level of perception. "And I don't know or care about what the others are planning, so don't ask either."_

_"I wasn't going to," Alphonse told him. "The fact of the matter is that you're here."_

_"You don't really care for answers as much as your brother, do you?" Envy cocked his head to one side curiously. Alphonse had his attention now._

_"It's funny," the younger Elric went on as he lined up his last shot. "How one thing can affect so many others. Just like you were doing first of all, trying to entice people to create the stone for you. Everything just fell into place. And now that you're going to have a baby, it's just as though the lull in the war and in the military was created because of that."_

_Envy__tried__very__hard__not__to__gape__at__Edward's__younger__brother.__He'd__been__right__the__first__time.__Alphonse_really was _the__smarter__of__the__two._

_"That's just what I think anyway." Al shrugged, unaware of the shocked silence emanating from the Sin. "That Scar was driven away from Central by your friends to keep us from following him so we could take care of you. Like a truce on both sides."_

_Almost right, but not quite._

_"Naive," Envy sniffed, airily. "Stupidly, stupidly naive. You're giving the Homunculi far too much credit. They wouldn't do something like that for you two."_

_"Maybe not for us, but for you." Alphonse raised him once again. "They must care about you."_

_"They do not," the Sin re-positioned the pillow behind him, huffily. "Like your brat of a brother said, no one has come to get me, have they?"_

_"Perhaps they thought it might be dangerous for you to be around them? After all you were very nearly dying when we came to get you. But then you just got better..."_

_Envy looked away again._

_"Ah!" Al shook his gauntlets defensively. "That's just my opinion though. Nii-san doesn't really believe it, but he said he hasn't come up with any conclusions either."_

_"Eighty-five."_

_"Huh?"_

_"Your score," Envy motioned to the dartboard. "Eighty-five."_

_"Oh, it's your turn then, isn't it," Al gave a little nervous titter and walked over to retrieve the darts; once again handing them to Envy who lugged them at the target, once again without pausing to aim. This time though, one dart was just slightly out of the bull's eye and jutted precariously from the border of the second inner ring._

_"One hundred and twenty-five," reported Al. "Congr-"_

_"Don't!"_

_"Oh, er, well, it's my last turn then," Al said. "Better make it worth it."_

_Envy said nothing and focused his attention once again outside the window. Only the expectant silence in the room tickled up the back of his spine, and when he whipped around he found Al regarding him hopefully, the darts crushed together in his huge hands, momentarily forgotten._

_"What?" Envy snapped. "What is it now?"_

_"Well," Alphonse began, bashfully. "I was just thinking... Since the baby is yours and Edward's... And I'm Edward's brother... That means... I'm going to be an uncle aren't I!"_

_If the suit of armor could have turned pink and sparkly with childish excitement at that moment, it probably would have. Envy rolled his eyes, finding himself oddly unable to become annoyed at the thought himself and Edward paired together as though they were a couple._

_"That's generally the way it works."_

_"I've never been an uncle before!"_

_"There's probably a good reason for that."_

_But Alphonse wasn't listening. He merely let out an excited giggle as he threw his darts at the board once again._

_"Oh look! I did it! One hundred and fifty!" Al clapped his hands._

_"Whoop de doo," Envy grumbled._

Edward found the Sin in Izumi's bedroom, struggling to reach the zip on the back of the dress while at the same time trying to heave the skirt of the frock over his head and rip the pins from his hair. The resulting image was that of a misshapen albino palm tree being choked to death by a suffocating amount of blue, daisy-printed rayon, while its thin white limbs flailed dangerously. Ed knocked on the doorframe in a lame attempt to appear chivalrous.

"Need a hand?"

"Yeah, if you could possibly close one into a fist and smash it against your nose? At high speed preferably..."

"No need to be sarky, I just want to help."

"Help? _Help?_You couldn't find your own arse with a map, O'chibi! What could you possibly do to help _me?"_

"I could undo that zip for a start."

Envy finally stopped struggling and looked up; the hem of the dress falling around him like petals on a wilting flower. When he glanced over the rise of his shoulder toward Ed, the Alchemist choked on a bubble of laugher as he caught sight of Envy's makeup-smeared face. It seemed he'd gone to wash Winry's handiwork away first off – though unfortunately no one had been kind enough to explain the term 'waterproof' to him. While most of the foundation and powder had been removed, his lips stubbornly refused to rid themselves of the inviting redness and mascara raccooned under his eyes.

Envy twitched in irritation, before spinning around again to tug at the zip himself. But faster than he could mutter _"Bastard,"_ Edward's hands had seized the top of the fastening and ran it down the length of the plastic teeth, slowly.

Intentionally.

"You didn't have to do that, you know," he stated quietly, removing a few stray pins from the half-dismantled chignon that stuck out, askew. Envy said nothing and jerkily shrugged the dress from his shoulders, practically dislocating his arms as he tried to reach around again in order to unhook the catches on the bra.

Edward blushed furiously as he made to help him, but the heat in his cheeks ebbed away quickly as he caught sight of the Shape shifter's back when the dress and undergarments fell away. Envy wasn't wearing his usual black cropped top as it would have shown over the low neck of the frock and his exposed back, rippling with the rises and hollows his internal architecture created through the near-translucent lamination of his skin, reminded Edward of a famine victim. A starving child, all bones, gangly limbs and distended stomach. Though Envy's was a result of an entirely different symptom, that was the image that flashed past Edward's mind. He bit his lip. But before he could battle up the nerve to comment, the Sin's thick black mane escaped the hold of the few remaining clips and tumbled over the offending bone structure.

"What I meant to say was," Edward faltered and, noticing Envy's T-shirt lying carelessly on the floor, walked over to retrieve it. He held on to it for a moment as Envy slid his arms out of the sleeves of the dress and, holding the rest of the material self-consciously against his stomach, reached for the garment. "What I _mean_ to say _is_... um... thanks."

The Sin's fingers closed around the material of the T-shirt, but he did not pull them away immediately. Instead he watched their hands a moment, hidden under the folds of the material but close enough to be touching. There was a tension in the air that wrestled Envy's breath inside his lungs, reducing his waning irritation to mere puffs and causing lightheadedness to cloud over his mind.

This was... what he'd wanted, wasn't it? Edward and himself. In a bedroom. Alone and in a state of partial undress. Well, possibly with the adventurous makeup and the oversized frock out of the picture, but otherwise...

Envy gulped as the moment dragged on and confusion started to weigh on Edwards features. It was a fact that the Sin had dreamt up many scenarios similar to this one, but that was the fabrication of his unconscious mind, which appeared to have a slightly larger reserve of confidence than its practical twin. Envy's dream persona may have leapt happily onto Ed without a care in the world, but the Real Envy – the one who was standing in front of the Real Ed – was fretfully twisting his fingers in the T-shirt, desperately seeking the right words to say.

And then killing himself with worry over whether they really _were_the right words or if right words even had a place in the conversation.

"Um..." the Alchemist jerked his hand forward a little. "Y-you can take it, you know..."

"Shut up," Envy retaliated automatically, snatching the shirt away. "Anyway, I didn't do it for _you,_I just didn't want to be caught out by those idiots as I am now."

"No, you didn't. I knew that." Edward sniffed loudly and crossed his arms, tucking his fingers beneath his elbows. "That would have been...um... difficult."

"Difficult?" Envy exclaimed as he dropped the dress and pulled the T-shirt over his head in one fluid movement. The disgraced blue rayon piled dangerously about his ankles. "_Difficult!_You really _are_an idiot, aren't you? They wouldn't have just pointed at me and said 'Oh look, a pregnant boy, how odd!' – I would have been locked up or something!"

"Yes, I know, sorry..."

"You can apologise all you like, it wouldn't have stopped them sending in White Coats by the dozen to poke me around..."

Edward shuddered. That was exactly what Lust had said.

"... And you. God knows what they would have done to you. Not that I care." Envy scratched at his forearm around the small band-aid that covered the drip scar. He wasn't doing very well with the whole 'civil' business but he simply couldn't keep the acidic words from rolling past his lips – as though he had some sort of Tourette's syndrome that initiated only in the prescense of Edward. It was a defense mechanism that was as natural as breathing. Envy was aware that the Alchemist tended to lump him under the description of 'scathing, bitter asshole', so he figured that's how he should appear. Acting this way wouldn't arouse suspicion of his true feelings.

Only... it seemed so tiresome now. And though the Sin wished to be himself – to be the way he was before he'd gotten himself into this terrible mess – it wasn't enough. He wanted Ed as well. But that was an itch he daren't scratch; the consequences of relief was hindered by so many fears. So he remained, too stubborn, cool and ashamed to submit to the feeling that curled like a smooth scorpion in his chest, stinging painfully with each missed opportunity of confession.

"Look, I _said_I'm sorry! But there wasn't anyway for me to fend Mustang off. He's not content if he doesn't have his fingers in every one of my...um... pies..." Edward paused a moment, wondering exactly where he was going with that sentence. Envy gave a light snort. "You know what I mean..."

"Orifices?"

"You bastard, _screw_you!"

"Need I make an obvious statement? But I'm surprised, O'chibi, I could have _sworn_you were a virgin that night. Or was I focusing on the wrong _end?_"

Edward glared at the Sin, but he could tell from Envy's less than confident expression that his heart wasn't in his cajoling. It seemed almost as though he was just blurting out insults for something to say. The Alchemist exhaled peevishly, blowing out the side of his mouth and scrubbed at his jaw with his fingertips.

"Whatever. I just... y'know. It was good of you to cooperate."

"Hn, cooperate? It was _my_idea that got you out of the mess."

"It was your bright idea that got us into it in the first place."

Truthful, but unnecessary.

Though the Sin had accepted the baby and the fact that Ed would probably end up as its unlikely guardian (as it was, possibly its only surviving parent), he _hated_being reminded of his folly. That wasn't _fair._Envy let out a snarl, his anger heightened by his embarrassment, and lunged towards Edward, fingers set into claws that would hopefully find themselves closing around the blond's neck.

He didn't really have much strength in him, but he knew he'd at least get a few nasty scratches in before the kid could push him away. Only what he forgot to include one factor in his attack. The Dress. The goddamn _swamp_of a dress that was currently pooling about his feet in the same manner a banana skin will sit quiet innocently – nay, mysteriously – in the middle of a busy hallway floor.

_Just waiting for the right charlie to come along and..._

Envy's toe caught on a snag of material as he flew forward toward the Alchemist, causing him to lose momentum and tumble. Edward dived forward to catch him, but skidded on the slippery fabric of the underskirt and instead forced both of them to topple over into a messy pile on the floor.

The resulting scene was despicably cliché, but neither Ed, who ended up crouched over the Sin's torso, leaning into his face, nor Envy, who lay stretched out under Ed, his fingers digging into the Alchemist's shoulders, seemed to notice. What they _did_notice was that they hadn't been this close to one another since the shower incident: and really only one out of two remembered that. Envy squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Edward's lips brush against his own when the blond accidentally slipped a second time and desperately prayed that they could remain as they were for at least ten more seconds.

Edward didn't seem too interested in moving either, but what was going through his _own_head was such a complete mess of emotions that he simply didn't know _what_to do about it. He lay still over the Shape shifter a moment longer just _looking_at him, when the realization dawned that he should actually say something.

"Uh... Are you ok?"

Envy opened his eyes a little and very nearly gasped.

_"Do that again..."_

"What?"

"Do.. th- I mean, _geddoff!"_The Sin shoved at Edward's shoulders and the blond immediately responded; almost flying backwards as he realized he'd been lying on the Sin's stomach.

"Shit! God, sorry. I didn't... Is it-"

"Fine, it's fine, just shut up." Envy got up slowly, wincing as the baby thumped it's displease at being knocked about against his insides. Edward frowned and grabbed the Sin's elbow, pushing him down onto the patterned coverlet of Izumi's bed.

"Sit down for a bit, alright?"

"I don't need your-"

"Just do it," Ed replied firmly. "I think Sensei's got some stuff around here somewhere that'll take that crap off your face."

Envy snapped his mouth closed abruptly. Well, _that_ was new... A little disorientated, he obeyed and quietly as Ed crashed about in the bathroom; chancing a brief rub on his belly in attempt to soothe the cranky child. It didn't work and he let out a grunt as the kid belted what was probably his kidney. After a moment Edward returned, carrying a handful of toilet paper and a small jar of something white and gloopy.

"I think this stuff is supposed to work."

"How do you know? You get dolled up on a regular basis, O'Chibi?"

Edward shot him a withering look.

"Al and I used to use it as a carrier base for some of our experiments since most of its contents are fairly neutral and... well, long story short, Izumi realized what we were doing and showed us what it was for."

"Did that hurt?" Envy asked.

"Left a few marks, yeah." Ed stuck his hand into the jar and scooped up a small amount of the viscous goo. He peered at his fingers skeptically. "Looks like the same stuff."

"It better be."

Edward rolled his eyes and wiped the fingerful of cold cream on the Sin's cheek. Envy scrunched his face up immediately upon contact and jerked backwards a little.

"I can do it myself, you know!"

"Obviously," Ed countered. "Since you did such a splendid job on your first try. Don't get up, this'll only take a second."

Envy grumbled as the Alchemist smeared the cream under his eyes, but didn't bother with a second retort. Having Edward clean his face seemed utterly degrading, but if that's what it took to have the blond in close contact again, then so be it. Besides, the baby _still_hadn't settled down and its constant movement was tweaking several muscles in his back, which in turn, shot pain signals up into the back of his neck. At this point it was much more comfortable to stay still and comply.

Edward pressed his lips into a thin line as he finished dabbing at the Sin's eyes and gave the tissue a swipe over his lips, finding that the red tinge to them was from Envy's previous scrubbing, not a stain from the lipstick itself. The Sin screwed up his face and made a few spitting noises as a smidgeon of the cream touched his tongue; it didn't _smell_like much, but it certainly didn't taste very pleasant. Glaring pointedly at the blond, Envy rubbed around his eyes a little as if to smear away any invisible traces of the mascara, then combed his fingers through his hair in search of any remaining pins.

Edward rocked back on his heels and watched quietly, scrunching the soiled tissue in his hand. Envy didn't look well. He _still_didn't look well. Despite the fact that Warner had announced the boy was 'much healthier', it didn't seem that way to Ed. The strain the baby was placing on the Sin's body had become painfully noticeable and though he'd been eating the meals the doctor had suggested, he hadn't appeared to have gained any of the weight Izumi had been fretting about.

He didn't look _right._

He looked worn.

And because of this Edward was reminded of the eerie discussion to two had shared in the grey hours of _that_morning four weeks ago. Grey hours and grey areas. Fuzzy recollections snowed over in mental static. Ed knew he hadn't _quite_understood when the Sin had admitted to losing a part of himself. It was an impossible thought, implausible. How was it that something that existed could... _not_ exist? It didn't make sense, no matter how convinced the Sin was. And _if_ Envy had been reduced to nothing but an animated baby storage facility, did that _really_mean he would die once the child was born? Was this odd transition in temperance a side effect of losing his Homunculus... symbiote – for lack of a better word?

Envy was real enough to Edward... and was becoming even _more_real as his body reacted to the internal pain from his injuries; as his attitude bowed down in resignation to the fact that he needed help. It was human to need and although Envy had informed him that becoming mortal couldn't _really_be included on his list of possible post-pregnancy outcomes, Edward still thought that perhaps there might be _some_kind of chance he could live, not _as_ a human exactly, but _like_ one.

He wanted to ask, he really did, but the conversation just wouldn't present itself. Envy was liable to start an argument in attempt to dodge personal questions, and those generally ended up going round in circles. Stubborn as a mule, the Sin was. Or, more precisely, an _ass._ However, delicate details aside, there were some things that Edward _really_did feel he must know. Whether on not the Sin would be willing to talk about them, wasn't an issue. He had to find out. Even if a small amount of wheedling was necessary.

"Do you think your friends will come back for you?" Ed blurted out, suddenly. Envy stopped picking at his hair – his eyes snapping back to Ed's face before they narrowed into curt slits.

"What business is that of yours?"

"They haven't come for you. They said they would." Edward ignored the question. "I thought they were a little more interested in the baby."

"You've asked me this before," Envy replied, stonily.

"Yeah and don't you think I might have earned something of a straight answer this time?"

"What like, 'Fuck off'? A stupid question gets a stupid answer, O'chibi."

"More like a stupid person _gives_a stupid answer!"

"Shut up!"

Edward sighed, not at all keen on yet another pointless round of verbal tennis.

"You really _don't_know, I was right the first time. They've just gone and left you, haven't they?"

Envy said nothing and continued to glower into Ed's eyes, using most of his self control not to look away.

"I don't know that much about you Homunculi," Ed went on, speculating as Envy's glare wavered and tried to wander off someplace where it wouldn't be scrutinized. "But I figure if you were going to try something, you'd have done it by now. Apart from..." he added awkwardly. "What you... uh... already did. But that didn't seem like it was part of the overall plan..."

"How do you know there even _is_a plan?"

"If there wasn't, you wouldn't be here."

"Who says?"

"Look," Ed gesticulated in exasperation. "When we came to get you-"

"Like a _frickin'_knight in shining Automail," Envy interjected sourly.

"-You were so ill the others couldn't cope with it. Something about being around them was affecting you, which was obvious because you recovered almost as soon as you got out of Central. They knew it, or at least they suspected that, so they entrusted you to me. But they said they'd come back for you when you were better, which you _were_ up until you screwed yourself up again. Now something about this clearly doesn't fit-"

"Ye gods, don't look now, the shrimp is trying to grow a brain!"

"Oh shut up. Envy, is it true that this 'master' of yours disowned you because of what you did?"

A frown smocked across Envy's forehead.

"What I did... What?"

Edward motioned lightly to the Sin's stomach.

"Because of the 'joke'."

"Who told you that?"

"Lust did."

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Or at least that's what it felt like. Envy shivered involuntarily.

"She said that they thought what you did was... umm... 'witless and stupid'." The Alchemist continued, pinching his chin. "And that you were refusing their help..."

"Lust said that? That D- that erm... _that__person_disowned me?"

Edward nodded.

"You're lying!"

"What would be the point in that? You're not going to tell me anything anyway."

Envy eyed the blond suspiciously. He knew that Dante would have probably made up a little 'scenario' for Lust to present the Elrics with, but did that mean they'd been planning on abandoning him from the start?

"There's alot I wanted to ask you," Ed said as he got to his feet. "But you're right, it's pointless to expect a straight answer. You're probably biased towards your friends, even if they _haven't_turned up for you in…" He stopped and thought for a moment. "Practically seven months."

As the blond straightened and turned away, Envy let his head droop, his dark hair coiling in his lap; little feeling ever more like a plot point in a story rather than a character. He'd given up hope on being 'rescued' the night Lust had informed him of their decision to follow Scar to Aegan border in the North but now that Ed knew about it...

_...Really_ knew about it...

It rather physically hammered in the fact that he was alone. Powerless. And quite possibly dying a slow but inevitable death. Everything had dulled and become blunt – even the short fuse to his famous temper had mysteriously grown a few inches. Though he remained quick to snap, the bite behind his words just wasn't as sharp as it used to be. And the thing that irked him the most was that he didn't really _want__it__to__be__either._

Envy hated a lot of people. Correction, he hated people in general. The Sins tended to stick to the persona their names provided them: only now, since Envy was not physically part of the group anymore, his callousness had taken a nosedive. _Now_ he felt as though he'd skulled several bottles of disappointment, fear, anxiety and despair and they'd burned the skin of his throat and sat, potent and sea-sick in the bottom of his stomach. Rage, he'd found, was one of the much _harder_emotions to uphold and one he certainly didn't have the strength for. And envy itself? The Sin almost laughed aloud. He'd wasted so much time harboring prejudice against Edward he never realized how completely pathetic and fruitless it was. Hohenheim had left him as well – Hohenheim left _everyone._Did that really mean Edward was only the Golden Son because he wasn't a Homunculus? Because the man hadn't tried to bring him back when he... tragically... died...

We try to use Human Transmutations to get back something we held dear to us. We don't realize the consequences...

That _damn_woman...

"They aren't my friends." Envy said softly as the Alchemist was about to step out of the room. Edward turned.

"No?"

"Not really, no." Envy looked up, his expression unreadable. "And you wouldn't understand, so don't bother trying. Even if I _do_ have any information about them that you aren't supposed to know about, I wouldn't blab."

Edward let out a slight huff and leaned against the door.

"Am I supposed to commend you for that?"

"Don't get bitchy." Envy crossed his arms. "It's as good as you telling _me_why you've given up on the Philosophers' stone."

"I haven't given up on it!"

"Is that so? Perhaps you'd better check that with you brother..."

Edward gave the Sin a distrustful glare.

"What did Al tell you?"

"Oh... nothing," Envy picked at his fingernails. "But seriously, have you really stopped searching because of me?"

Edward stormed back up to the bed and leaning menacingly over the Sin, who remained perched on the end of the coverlet.

"What did you say to Al?"

"Nothing, you stupid prat!" Envy retorted, a little too loudly. He didn't mean to, but Edward was close to him again. Too close. The Sin felt parts of him reddening - parts that Edward might not appreciate reacting to him, and was very, very glad he'd chosen to wear the longest of his encompassing T-shirts this morning. Envy puckered his expression stubbornly, trying to shroud his inexplicable desire to wrap his long legs about Edward's sides and pull him in closer. He could smell his anger, hear his skin. He could just _taste_the heat in his eyes and was not entirely disgusted at the fact that Ed's mounting displease made him want to either scream or come or both at the same time and _messily._

"You can say what you want to me," Edward informed him quietly. "But you don't try to trick my brother, understand? Don't _ever_bring Al into...uhh.."

He stopped. He thought. He _felt._

And swallowed a lump of dread.

What was that? That... _thing_moving up the back of his leg, round the curve of his calf. A foot? Yes... it had toes... long, thin toes. It was a foot. And it was Envy's foot because, Edward's eyes glanced down before he could stop them, his _leg_was moving at the same time his foot was moving so that meant it was _Envy_who was running his foot up against the back of Edward's leg... feeling... him... up... He was...uhh...

Meanwhile, it appeared only a _part_ of the Sin had realized what he was doing; a part bold enough to risk dropping it's _exhausting_nonchalant facade in an experiment to gauge Ed's reaction. A part that thought the feel of the warm leather covering the pert calf muscle was rather nice. A part that caused Envy's eyes to close ever so _slightly._

Instinctively, Ed's knee bent to get away from the adventurous toes, in turn upsetting his balance; which wasn't _really_expecting sudden movements and caused him to fall forward a little. He flung out his hands to the mercy of the empty air and was suprised when they were seized and held steady by the boy beneath him. Edward's hair swung into Envy's face, his leg slipped again and he very nearly kneed him in the groin, stopping short on the lightest contact. And now that Edward's knee had found itself in a in a rather _interesting_ position between Envy's legs, the extent of the Sin's blushing became quite apparent.

No creature in the world could have jumped backwards as fast as Edward did. Yet as it was he didn't feel that was fast enough. It was quite the dramatic reaction, worse than the time one of the neighborhood children had tricked him with their 'Surprise' box – one that contained a 'mystery' item of which the victim is supposed to try and guess by touching part of it through a small hole in one side of the casing. Naturally, when the mousetrap closed on Edward's finger, he felt he didn't _really_need to state his prediction and it was the same again this time. Yet, thought the feel of Envy's erection pressing against the tip of his knee was _surprising,_it was not so much a painful sensation as it was one that burned and jolted something deep inside his own body. Something deep and hidden and shadowy and altogether very, _very_naughty.

Edward made a strangled noise, looking decidedly scandalized. Surely Envy didn't... He didn't... He _didn't!_

Without saying anything more, not that he _could_ have if he'd tried, Ed slowly backed out of the room as if retreating from a cornered nymphomaniac. Or incubus. Or something. The Sin watched him numbly, just as silent and still as he remained glued to the edge of the bed. He was not _entirely_aware of what had happened; yet the heat in his cheeks told him he didn't really need to guess. The look on Edward's retreating face said it all.

Was that a good: 'Oh my God!' or a bad: 'OH MY GOD!'

Once he had reached the doorframe, Ed gripped it, then swung his body around into the hallway. For some reason, the air there was much easier to breathe. There was a noise in front of him. Someone clearing their throat. He looked up and Winry, who had at that very moment appeared at the top of the stairs with a cup of tea in hand, shot him a confused look.

"Congratulations," Ed squeaked in explanation, several decibels higher than his normal voice, as he hurried past her. "It's most definitely, _definitely_ a boy..."

A splintering wind caught the hem of Dante's thick leather overcoat and tugged at the heavy material with icy talons. The woman watched, her thoughts almost as frozen as her stolen body's fingers, at the curling gusts of sleet beckon as they spiralled a breakneck passage down the sheer slopes of the ravine. There was something so hypnotic about the gaping throat of the chasm; the limitless depths of empty space which triggered a flighty, churning fancy of simply leaping into that jagged, rocky mouth and being lost to the deafening gale of the swirling wind.

It would have been a beautiful, tragic way to die. A heroine's death. With a single leap one would surrender to the laws of nature, gravity, and plummet towards inescapable doom on the very breath of the devil himself. Suicide in the Ishbal religion is as forbidden as Alchemy, or as Human Transmutation is under Amestris law.

But suicide is painless.

Sinning is painless.

Until the Devil becomes sick of sin and you hit the ground.

"Dante-sama?" the Homunculus crept precariously around the thin ledge of the pass and positioned herself near her master. "Sloth has returned."

"What has she to report?" The immortal woman looked at Lust, tucking the escaping strands of her bobbed haircut into her hood. Lust hung her head and slowly shook it from side to side.

"She could not find any trace of him."

"She searched the entire ravine?"

"I did, Dante-sama," Sloth materialized in front of them both like a wave, her face a hanging mask in the animated pool of water that was slowly thickening with cold. Only her constant movement of the tiny hydrogen particles kept her from freezing completely. "Scar is nowhere to be found."

"Did he die?" asked Wrath as he swung his legs to and fro over the side of the cliff.

Dante did not reply, only squinted into the blackness of the open space. It would have taken a miracle trick from the precious God he prayed to, had Scar actually survived the fall; but then again, Lady Luck seemed to have taken him in as a personal favourite. Dante cursed softly into the gale that swept along the length of the chasm then balled against the force of the wind and turned to walk back up the path to the top of the ravine.

"Dante-sama," Sloth shot around protectively to the woman's side. "Shall I carry you?"

"I said I'd follow him to the ends of the earth if need be," Dante explained as she trudged slowly up the pass, ignoring the worried Homunculus. "But it seems even doing that won't keep my players where I want them."

"Scar is a Wild Card," Lust agreed. "He was nowhere near as easy to manipulate as the Elrics."

"The more Humans think, the easier it is to confuse them." Dante smiled. "Sometimes they go so far into pondering the universe they forget to breathe. The Scarred Man followed his heart, unlike the Elrics who tend to lose themselves whenever another piece of the truth reveals itself."

"But they continue their quest to regain their bodies, regardless." Lust frowned, wrestling her long hair away as it tried to plaster itself against her face.

"Yes, but rather like little fish drowning in air," Dante smiled cruelly, her thin lips peeling back against her teeth. "Every little bit on information concerning the Philosopher's Stone is a bubble of water that saves them for a second before it becomes homogenized in their brains and becomes nothing but another layer of grey."

"Scar is straightforward," Sloth nodded. "But he has also proven himself to be quite the slippery fugitive. Pride was not pleased that he was able to evade the Military and escape the country."

"Neither am I," Dante said, pointedly. "But it was also a happy coincidence that he decided his people would be safe if he were to try to create the stone _away_ from them. And who else would be appropriate candidates for the transmutation? Only the northern settlement of the Amestris Military, the rogue squadron of soldiers who have been fighting against the mountain villagers for years in order to claim their land."

"He's done his homework," mused Lust.

"Indeed," Dante grabbed at her dress and hiked it up a little to make climbing easier. "But it seems he has been irresolute with his decision."

"Perhaps we should create a few disturbances in the Ishbalite settlements again?" Lust suggested before she could stop herself. Dante stopped, swivelled around and shot her a dangerous look under the dark fur of her hood.

"And what point would that serve if he's dead?" she spat, irritably. "I cannot condone any unnecessary violence in the Military at the moment – not when the prolonged peace has sparked the interest of both Creta and Aerugo who may finally be interested in talking allegiances."

"But what about making us human?" Wrath whined.

"There will be time for that later," Dante said, dismissively.

Wrath's thumb danced about his lips as he sulked before he finally gave in to his childish urges and sucked the tip of it. Gluttony giggled from the top of the ravine, imitating his younger brother and trotted over to meet Lust as soon as she stepped onto level ground.

"I won't have disruptions when things are finally falling into place without my having to coax them." Dante explained. "The humans are learning. They do that occasionally and _when_they do it's best to leave them."

"What do we do from here, then?" Wrath flicked his thumb out of his mouth and set his hands on his hips, violet eyes flashing dangerously – both visible for once as the strong mountain winds blew his hair away from his face.

"What _you_will do," Dante glared at the boy, "is remain here with Sloth until you receive my command to move. _If_Scar decides to raise his marred head, you'll be the ones to knock it back down."

"Of course," Sloth bowed a little while Wrath bounced happily on his toes, glad to be stationed near his so-called 'mother'. "But won't the Fuhrer be missing his secretary?"

"I don't need you playing 'mission control' receptionist at the moment, Sloth. Though Pride is also concentrating on keeping peace in the military, he's also had a chance to bond with his family a little. It is important to keep his humans happy. He _is_the face of the country after all, and don't the loyal subjects just _love_a happy King."

The woman laughed heartily, but joylessly and Lust wondered whether the mirth of it was lost to the howling wind or if it contained any in the first place.

"Er... Dante-sama?" she asked, being careful to appear as polite and respectful as possible.

"Hmm?"

"Will you be seeing to Envy? Only, it will be time soon..."

"_I_ won't be," Dante flicked back her hood and shook her hair in the wind, looking over at the confused Sin. "_You_will."

"But I thought..."

"Envy isn't happy with me, Lust. He wasn't pleased that I insisted upon him carrying the child and I'd imagine he was less than ecstatic when he found out he had to stay with the Elrics."

She was still smiling, but the grin didn't waver; it sat stagnant and rotting on the woman's deceptively young face. Dante seemed almost... amused by Envy's suffering. Despite herself, Lust felt a little ill, yet she was reminded strongly of the conversation in Dante's study all those months ago and reluctantly pulled up the corners of her mouth weakly in return. Just to please the woman. Well, that was what they _did,_wasn't it?

"I'd rather you approached him, Lust. He seems to tolerate you the most out of all of us."

"I don't understand," Lust shook her head. "Do you wish to apprehend the baby or not?"

"You don't know me well enough yet, Lust. You're much younger than Envy and Pride." Dante sighed, her breath crystallizing in the air. "I will tell you now that you shouldn't question my motives. But for this time, _just_this once,"she added as Lust went to open her mouth again. "What I want is for Edward to bond with the child. It will be more valuable if it carries an emotional tag. I won't be taking it away immediately; I have other things to attend to. But I _do_want you to offer your assistance to Envy. Both he and the Elric boy will be quite curious as to our whereabouts by now, I'm sure."

"And what do I tell Envy if he asks?"

"He won't. He'll be relieved enough to know he wasn't forgotten."

Lust bounced her shoulders a little.

"I still don't understand why you came with us to chase Scar and didn't remain safe in Central City. I thought you would have wanted to be close to Envy in case anything happened."

"Lust, that's enough."

The Homunculus snapped her mouth closed abruptly, watching as Dante struggled to adjust her coat against the force of the wind, then followed slowly behind as the woman staggered the icy track that led back down the mountain. The sleet was thickening, its slowing descent signaling the oncoming hindrance of snow. If Dante wished to return to Central, or even Dublith, in good time, they would have to travel fast to get in front of the weather. Further down the beaten track, Lust knew they would run into company: the inhabitants of the hills, farmers and lonely mountain dwellers who would be waiting to interrupt the suspicious small party who pursued the marked man to the pass. But they were nowhere near as daunting as the danger of ice freezing over the railroad tracks when the train was the fastest transport available. They could take a car from anywhere within fifty miles of Central, but any further North and transport was reduced to rail or cart.

Anything slower than a train for a two hundred mile trip would put them way behind schedule. If Dante even _had_a schedule. Lust had been certain she'd been following Envy's, but now she wasn't so sure.

Giving the disappearing silhouettes of Sloth and Wrath a genteel nod of farewell, she carefully picked her way down the steep slope of the mountain as snow began to swirl about and cloud the air. It would be a miracle if they made it to the last train before the storm hit.

But Humans were the ones who worked miracles. Gods worked fate. That was _much_more scary.

The world smelled _delightful._

Padding through the centre of Dublith on a crisp, bright morning, the scent of freshly baked bread, croissants and coffee from the various cafés dotted along the main drag seduced its watering taste buds; but it was not the physical scent of food that was making the creature react as such.

It was the memory.

The creature had been alive before; it had smelled these things before, had tasted them. It knew the warmth basking on its skin was sunlight. It knew the crunch of the road beneath its feet was from the thin layer of loose gravel coating the weighty stone paving. It knew the wind in its hair, it savored the cooling sweat on its pallid skin.

Everything about its body was new, so very, very fresh and new. But its mind was old. It remembered.

Villagers began to spill onto the street, setting up tables, opening stores, dusting signs. They yawned as they went about their initial chores, stretching lusciously in the early morning rays and greeting each other with cordial nods and infectious smiles.

It returned a toothy grin, incisors sparkling, to a young waitress as she bid it good morning and briskly shook the starch from a pristine tablecloth.

Humans, wonderful, remarkable, insatiable humans. It remembered them too.

The fearful, skittish creatures who deemed themselves worthy to own the earth, yet constantly fought over which of them reserved the right to hold the blueprints, it knew what they were. Greedy idiots. Lustful, envious, gluttonous idiots; full of pride as they were of wrath: yet their sloth, so very like rust, consumed their dreams faster than their labour wore. Those who came from beyond the gate were only a mirror of their mortal forefathers.

The humans were the first ones to sin after all. They were the same monsters, only they'd slapped on restrictions and given themselves a different title.

It continued to smile, then began to whistle as it sauntered down the street. There was power in its fingers and it was not afraid. Even if the others came, it still would not be afraid. For it knew something they didn't.

God made the world in seven days.

Dante made her red stones from the souls of seven men.

The seven sins had all shared a place on the earth at one time for seven hours.

But no one knew that seven stones had passed through the gate as a whole.

No one knew what the punishment was in light of a sin to passing through the dark doors. Death being sent to death.

No one knew.

But oh, they'd find out.

_Stupid bastards..._

"Writing?"

"No."

"Painting."

"No."

"Woodwork."

"No."

"Sewing."

"What do I look like? A girl?"

"Well you did a very believable impression when the Military was here."

"Har de har har." Envy licked his thumb flicked a page in the recipe book that lay open in his lap. "I _am_an actor, you know – even if I could morph into someone's exact likeness before, I still had to do some background research."

"You mean like you did when you impersonated the General Basque-Gran and Edward saw through your disguise immediately because Gran died in front of him only days previous?"

There was a pause.

"That was Lust's mistake, she should have been aware of what was happening on the surface while I was preparing things underground."

"That's right, blame your sister." Izumi grinned a little as Envy shot her a dirty look. "Anyway, look, I _can't_have you cooking anymore."

"Just because I'm better at it than you are."

"No," Izumi sighed patiently. "I mean, alright, I'll admit it, you are. But we're up to our ears in food in this house. I fear for my poor oven!"

"It was worse off before when _you_were using it."

"Envy!"

"Alright, alright!" Envy slammed the book closed and turned around in his chair to face the woman. "What else am I supposed to in this hole then?"

"Anything you like, but for God's sake, don't start cleaning again."

"Why not?"

"Because it's _my_house and _I'll_clean it!"

"Oh, sorry. Had I interrupted your bi-annual schedule?" Envy smirked as the woman before him turned an interesting shade of puce. If he hadn't been bordering eight months pregnant, she would have happily tossed him over her shoulder without thinking twice about it.

"I clean my house on a _regular_basis, thank you very much! You shouldn't be around all those chemical products and dust anyway," she added with a sniff. "Why don't you ask Ed or Al to teach you some basic alchemy?"

"You want me to try and kill myself again, don't you."

"Not _that_kind of alchemy!" Izumi rested her hands on her hips. "I know you didn't have a very good experience with your first try, though that's understandable, considering what you tried to do-"

Envy snorted loudly at this point.

"- but you _did_show a decent amount of talent. Maybe the boys could show you how to do basic transmutations?"

"Maybe I could stick a rusted machete through my head?"

Izumi's fingers dug into the fabric of her jeans – nearly tearing holes with her fingernails.

"Well, I don't know. But there's got to be something else you can do other than cooking and cleaning."

Envy shrugged, but at that same moment, Shigu poked his head around the lounge room door and grunted in his usual mammoth guttural that tended to scratch Envy's nerves up the wrong way.

"Izumi."

"Hmm?"

"Give him to me."

The very same morning, Ed and Al had been sent into town to run some errands for Izumi. It would only take them half an hour, she'd promised.

Three hours and twenty-five minutes later, the Elric brothers were convinced that their teacher had never done her own shopping in her _life,_ she simply just bribed someone _else_to do it for her. Edward fumed and grumbled under his breath his displease at being _utilized_and that the word 'gullible' most certainly was _not_ tattooed across his forehead.

Al commented politely that although he did not agree with Edward that their teacher bribed poor, unsuspecting children into becoming her willing slaves, he did think that, by the amount of time Izumi had estimated for them to complete their errands, she must normally fly though her shopping.

Ed shrugged and said that she probably did. On a broomstick.

Al gasped and retaliated, defending Izumi's integrity.

Edward didn't back down: _Integrity?__What__integrity?__See__these__scars?__Yeah,_her _fingernails!__Hers!_

Finally, after a brief spat in the middle of the greengrocers, the boys managed to tick off the last of their tasks from the novella of a list they'd been presented with and began to make their way back to the Curtis'. Alphonse had been quiet for the better part of half an hour and though Edward knew it was above his brother to sulk, something was bothering him indefinitely.

And he was fairly certain he knew what it was.

"Al?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you really think I'd given up on our quest?" Edward took a breath, flexing his fingers under the handles of the shopping bags as their weight caused the thin cords to cut into his palm. There was no point in beating around the bush, not with his little brother, anyway.

"Nii-san..." Al looked down at him.

"Because I haven't!" Edward answered himself, quickly. "I know I've been slack on my research as of late, but I promise as soon as we get back to Central again I'll..."

"Nii-san, what are you talking about?" the tasseled helmet shook a little from side to side in consternation. "Why would you think I'd think that?"

Ed stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, his head bowed so that only the top of his golden head was visible to his taller brother.

"Envy said that you thought I'd..." He scuffed the toe of his boot against a hairline crack in the concrete, suddenly feeling ridiculously presumptuous again. Actually, Envy didn't say that at all... not in so many words anyway. "Oh never mind..."

"I didn't say you'd given up, Nii-san. I just said that it wasn't that important to us right now."

Ed ceased ruining the tread of his boots and looked up sharply, panic stapling his features.

"You said _what?_Al-"

"It's true, Nii-san!"

"No it's not!" Edward shook his head furiously, his golden bangs whipping against his cheeks. "How could it not be important to me? How could _you_not be?"

"I really don't mind..." Al tried to reassure his brother, but Ed just didn't appear to be listening. "It's not your fault about what happened to Envy."

"I mean I have been trying to go over all our collected research," Ed babbled. "But since there've been no new clues or really _anything_happening relating to the Philosopher's stone, I've just been going round in circles. But I..." the blond halted in the middle of his tumult of excuses. "Envy?"

"Yes," Al seemed to smile a little, though the shape of his helmet's mouthpiece tended to give the impression of a permanent grin anyway. "You haven't been researching the stone because you don't want to find new evidence that will take you away from Envy and the baby."

Edward simply gaped at his younger brother.

"I... Wha? No! You're wrong! That's not it at all!"

"But Nii-san... I thought you liked Envy?"

The Alchemist felt his knees tremble as his nerves chewed the strong bands of tendon into mush. It was an innocent assumption, but it had _teeth._

"What... possibly gave you that idea?" he managed weakly, leaning against the smooth, whitewashed side of a building for support.

"He's having your baby, Nii-san!" Al gasped in a voice that veered on the edge of shock.

"Ye-yes I'm well aware of that," Ed looked about the empty street, neurosis playing on his imagination that someone might be watching them. Listening. Understanding. It didn't help that the statement Al had made was so very, very wrong sounding. Even though it was the unfortunate bona fide truth. "But that doesn't mean I _like_him."

"What about the baby? You _do_want the baby don't you?" Al clutched anxiously at his grocery bags, seemingly petrified at the idea that his older brother would deny his right to become an uncle. Edward rubbed his shoulder at the join where his Automail attached to his skin and sighed, tiredly.

"It's not an issue whether I _want_ the baby or not. I can't deny it the right to live."

"Is that how you really feel about him?" the metal boy asked tentatively. "Or her. You're just letting them live because you have to?"

"Al, what are you getting at?" Edward sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What do you want me to say exactly?"

"Nii-san, don't you feel any love for the baby at all?"

"Don't put me in that position. I can't just suddenly love something that's been forced upon me. I feel responsible, but that's all."

"What if it were someone else? If it wasn't Envy..."

"Give it a rest, Al." Ed carefully placed his armload of shopping on the ground and wiped his wrist over his forehead. It had been getting so hot recently, and he was still dressing in his black trousers and tank top. He should have known better by now; it was always much warmer in Dublith than Central. He felt sticky, used, like a leftover popsicle stick.

"But you were so nice to him after he'd been sick."

Ed shrugged uncomfortably.

"Did you feel sorry for him?"

"Of course not!" Edward retorted. "Why would I pity an idiot like that who refuses to accept the consequences of his _stupidity_and only ends up making it worse when he selfishly tries to fix things as he sees fit? More importantly, why do you?"

"Well, I-"

"You defend him like you'd defend a friend. I don't understand that at all!" Ed continued angrily and with sudden, perfervid gesticulation. "He killed Hughes! Hughes was _our_friend!"

"I know, Nii-san..."

"And _he_killed him! Not to mention the fact that he's probably killed tons of other people as well!"

"Nii-san..."

"And don't forget we all got into this mess because _he_decided to play that brainless prank!"

"Nii-san, I _know!"_

"Yet you _still_offer him commiseration."

"Yes I do!" Al confirmed stubbornly.

"Why!" Edward practically exploded. "Why would you do something like that? And for _him?"_

"Because, Nii-san." The voice that echoed inside the dull shell of the armor was thin and drawn; a clear sign that the younger boy was getting angry himself, yet he managed to control his temper, while his older brother wrestled with his own frustration. "Like the military will imprison the Ishbalites and destroy their homes because they're told to, like State Alchemists get called to duty when war breaks out, Envy did those things when he was under the orders of somebody else."

"How do you know that?" Annoyance. Ed was losing the battle with his overbearing petulance, yet his begrudging curiosity still held the lead position as his emotions raced around in his head. Edward glared at his brother, his confusion still pounding in his temples, masquerading as rage.

"Lust was telling us about some 'Master'; I just think it makes sense to assume that they've been the one controlling the Homunculi." Alphonse sighed a little as Edward looked away. "And when Lust talked about that person, she was afraid. Nii-san, since Envy has been with us he's been sort of... rough. And mean." Al faltered a little. "And...er selfish, but he hasn't hurt anybody!"

"He _did_try to hurt the baby." Edward grumbled quietly.

"He was scared, Nii-san."

"You're giving him far too much credit."

"You're giving him too little!"

"A _little_is _generous_!" Edward sulked. "He deserves _none!"_

"Is that why you hit him, Nii-san?" Alphonse replied. Ed's chin snapped up.

"Wha?"

"Youhurt him, Nii-san... I saw the bruises."

"Al..." Edward melted a little. The wild maelstrom of resentment and fury he'd unleashed upon the Sin was a sore point – and not just for Envy. Edward knew how easy it was for him to lose his cool and it shamed him far to often.

"I was angry."

"And so was he," the younger boy crouched, hunkering over the bags as he carefully rearranged the contents. "You heard what he said in the Fifth Laboratory... about us... I think he's been angry for a long time, Nii-san. Just like Wrath was angry at Sensei and Mother-uhh, Sloth was angry at us. But he stopped being angry once he knew he had to cooperate."

"You mean, once he found out he had no choice," Ed stated, sullenly.

"He didn't have a choice in becoming a Homunculus," Al rebutted.

"We didn't have a choice in being born!"

"Same thing!"

Both boys glared at each other, panting in the shimmering heat. Ed sniffed and planted his hands on his hips.

"We don't owe him any favors."

"No, we don't," Al agreed. "But everyone deserves the right to try to change. You don't need something to be perfect to love it."

"I don't... love Envy," Edward contradicted him, with difficulty.

"But you're not really as angry as you think you are."

The blond shook his head slowly and sighed, scrubbing sweat away from his skin. Al straightened, standing up again and gave a light nod.

"That's good, Nii-san."

"Yeah, well." Edward puffed his sweaty fringe out of his face. "In truth, Al, I think I'd already given Envy his second chance. It's just that..." the Alchemist looked up at his younger brother and flashed a tentative smile. "I'd never put him before you. And I'll never give up looking for a way to make you human either."

"Well, I get to be an uncle now," Al clutched his gauntlets together in ecstatic bliss, the dull thud resounding off the tall blank wall Ed was leaning against. "That's almost as good."

Ed laughed out loud.

"You're more excited about this baby than all of us put together!"

Al giggled a little, bashfully scratching the back of his helmet and took a step backwards...

... Into the path of a small boy who'd at that _very_moment, been walking by. The child yelped as Al accidentally trod on his foot and crumpled to the ground in tears.

"Oh! Oh I'm sorry!" the monumental figure almost leapt out of it's iron skin and after recovering from the initial shock, bent down on one knee to address the howling boy. "Does it hurt?"

"Of course it does," Ed replied as the little boy hollered louder and curled over his injured limb. "Come on, kid, let's have a look."

Snivelling, the boy shook his head, glaring up at Edward through his tears and the Alchemist gasped a little when he saw the boy's face. Blue eyes regarded him with obstinate distrust in an expression he was far too familiar with, and the short mop of child's blond locks and dark, dark eyes just _screamed_semblance to a person Edward was s_ure_he'd seen before. Only he couldn't quite recall where.

"Er... Do you live near here?" Ed asked, still hypnotized by those wide indigo irises. They were near inhuman, they were _older_and really didn't belong on such a soft, guiless face. Envy's eyes were purple, violet: but these seemed deeper, odd, like a doll's. The boy screwed up his face a little and helpfully stuck out his tongue.

"Maybe he's from the new family that moved in down the road?" suggested Al.

"Do you live near the butchery in Austin street?" Ed tried again as the boy eyed the brothers suspiciously. "Because we're going that way. We could drop you off if you like."

"Ma told me not to talk to strangers," the child mumbled automatically, sucking on the words. He dragged his forearm across his nose, leaving a thin, translucent snail trail of snot. Ed flinched: he'd never liked seeing evidence of other people's mucus and used to run away from his younger brother when Al had blown his nose and had failed to wipe it properly, but tried not to let his internal gagging show on his face and tried smiling brightly instead.

"I'm sure she did, but I'm also sure she'd like you home in time for lunch," he placed a hand on the top of the boys head and ruffled his hair in an attempt to act friendly. The boy harrumphed, but did not try to squirm away.

"Now," Ed continued. "Since you're not going to let us have a look at that foot, how about we just take you home? We could pick up some ice from the butchery freezer to put on it as well, that'll help. Would you like that?"

"'es."

The word was barely recognizable, but Ed's grin widened as a sudden recollection of Al's sulking face popped into his mind – the strange eyes forgotten for the time being. There'd been numerous times when the younger Elric had acted just the same. It was nostalgic. He liked it.

"And you know," Al pitched in instinctively picking up the 'older brother' syndrome. "The lady who we live with makes really, really nice cookies. Do you like cookies?"

A toothy grin.

"'es!"

"Would you take one as an apology for my stepping on your foot?"

"'es!"

"What do you say?" Edward's eyes were sparkling: he was having far too much fun with this.

"pweese."

Both brothers laughed at the same time and the little boy giggled along with them. Al gathered the shopping bags together and, after some creative arranging, managed to free one arm in order to scoop up the child. Forgetting the pain in his toes, the boy whooped gleefully as Al lifted him onto his large shoulder and waved cheekily down at Edward from his vantage point.

"Hee hee, you're reeeeeeeal small now!"

"Ha ha," Ed replied weakly.

"Nii-san!" Al exclaimed, amazed. "You didn't yell at him for... you know... _calling__you__short."_The last part he whispered, but Edward only gave a negligent shrug.

"Yeah well you _did_stand on his foot, Al. He doesn't need me yelling at him."

"Oh, yes. That's true."

_"Stupid, smart-aleckky little sh-"_

"Nii-san!"

The cool interior of the Curtis' butchery was pleasant in comparison to the sweltering heat outside, but while Edward expected to be greeted by the looming monolith of Shigu, he was surprised to find the shop counter unattended. Confused, Ed poked his head around the door to the back room, batting the plastic hangings out the way.

"Uh... Shigu?" He called into the dimness of the inner prep room. From the gaol-like confines of the spacious chiller in the far end of the room, a repetitive _cthunk_sound hammered the silence – interrupted only by an occasional sickly glutinous splintering. Edward made his way across the stained, uneven linoleum floor, his shoe tread sticking to the surface a little, and peered gingerly around the edge of the door.

"Ummm..?"

"_What?"_

Edward fell backwards with a decidedly effeminate yelp, which he was _positive_ was going to be used against him later somehow, as a very sticky, very grinning, very _bloodied_Envy appeared in the doorway of the chiller; complete with crimson-splattered apron and an axe of a cleaver in hand.

"Wha..._hell?"_

"What the hell, what?"

"'the hell?" Edward panted while his heart jackhammered somewhere up by his tonsils. "...you doing... in butchery." He twisted the top of his shirt in his left hand while his steel fingers of his right nearly carved five small trenches in the worn linoleum. "With the kind of weapon large enough to take down a small herd of _elephants!"_

"Idiot," Envy rolled his eyes. "It's just a cleaver."

"Are you sure? I thought maybe you'd stolen the blade from someone's guillotine..." Edward replied airily, getting to his feet. "Anyway, what _are_you doing in here?"

"That woman didn't want me in her kitchen anymore," Envy said with a lofty sneer. "Seems she can't handle the fact that I'm just better at cooking than she is."

"You _cooked?_"

"Yeah, what, didn't you notice the snacks in the kitchen are actually edible now? So you can stop trying to eat the wax fruit."

"Those were... _your_cookies?"

"Uh, yeah." To the Sin's surprise, Ed looked scantily disappointed.

"Why on earth would you want to learn how to cook?"

"I was bored." Envy shrugged. "Besides, if I _have_to eat, I may as well eat what I want."

Edward grunted in a rather porcine way before he chortled smugly. That was just... cute. Surprisingly cute. Even if Envy didn't really wear sleeves, he was continually pulling something bizarre out of them. Edward didn't really _like_the term 'cute', but he tacked it on the Sin just the same. It seemed to fit for once.

"Oh I'm not laughing at your... er... home economics," He explained as Envy's countenance clouded over. "You just don't seem like the cookie type."

"Shut up."

"So, what... you're working with Shigu now?"

"Yeah," Envy gave an unintentional shiver then shrugged dismissively and rubbed the side of his elbow. "It's cooler in here anyway."

"I guessed the temperature might bother you," Edward raised his eyebrows as he looked over the particularly grubby Shape shifter who in turn was rather obviously lapping up Ed's attention like a kitten before a saucer of cream. "Um... but I didn't think that chopping up large amounts of dead animal was a task you'd find enjoyable."

"Well, I wouldn't start calling me 'Barry' anytime soon. But I certainly don't mind the work if I get to use this." Envy swung the cleaver to and fro happily.

"I suppose not," Ed agreed. "But then I doubt I'd ever try to hazard a guess of what pastimes are up your alley."

"Or what I'd _like_ up it." Envy grinned.

Then realized what he'd just said.

And as Edward – who'd _also_heard the unforgivably fervent faux pas – began to glow a rather sweet pink, Envy's brain screamed profanities at his libido which leered in a most promiscuous manner and ran a velvety tongue over its all-too-white teeth.

Envy's body, though it wished to close the heavy door of the chiller on it's skull a few hundred times, simply went rigid with embarrassment.

"Uh... I mean-"

"Nii-san!" Alphonse interrupted, ever at the most appropriate time. "Have you got the ice yet? Only the little boy is complaining again about his – oh, hello Envy."

Envy looked up at the metal boy; bewilderment, shock and embarrassment all fighting valiantly for a place in his expression. Ed jumped a little then gave himself a mental shake and walked briskly past the Sin into the chiller, and dipped a hand into one of the large chest freezers that lined the small room like whiteware coffins.

"Got it," he announced, somewhat breathless, holding up a small plastic baggie of ice cubes. "This should do the trick."

"Little boy?" Envy was mystified.

"Wonderful!" Al beamed. "Then I'll go get him a cookie!"

"Who?"

"Sure," the Alchemist smiled, ignoring the baffled Sin as he swept past him, glad of the distraction. "With one of those I doubt he'll go whining to his mother about how some big armored... oh..."

Edward's voice trailed off as he walked into the showroom, the bag of ice decorating the metal skin of his right hand in beads of condensation. The butchery door was open, unwillingly letting the unwelcome heat from the sunny day into the shop and the little waiting bench in the area in front of the plain wood counter was completely desolate.

The child had gone.


	12. Manner of speaking

**Dark****Humor** _Chapter__11:__Manner__of__speaking._

The body of Lieutenant Zolf J. Kimbley decomposed in laggard silence where it lay sprawled _-__splattered__-_ in an awkward, bloated heap somewhere between the teetering pyramids of tin cans and glass bottles in the farthest corner of the junkyard. It had not been there long, perhaps a couple of days at best, but the sweltering heat of the Dublith summer had already begun its decomposition process: filling the slack flesh and veins with acidic heat, letting the internal structure weaken and collapse like a slowly deflating balloon. The corpse itself was no longer recognizable as the Non-Partisan Alchemist; instead, the deceased bore a closer semblance to a newborn homunculus: all peeling skin, coagulated blood, insides on the outside and too many elbows. Squalid, miserable lumps of disintegrated human clumped like fleshy islets in a slowly drying sea of blood, pus and other nameless internal fluids. Not even the most practiced of veteran coroners would have been able to hazard a guess to the identity of the upended pile of parts. Not even his own mother could have identified him; had she felt the obligation to do so.

His infamous tattoos, his crest, or calling card, which normally gilded the surface his palms had been removed. So had his hands. And his feet for that matter, along with various other parts of his anatomy at well. One could have said the man suffered horribly before he died. And he very probably did. Only whether one actually _cared_or not was an entirely different kettle of fish altogether.

A grayish swarm of sand flies drifted about the carcass like greedy carrion birds, landing on various expanses of the mutilated flesh, tapping their sensitive feelers about it eagerly and pressing their legs together as if to say: _Itadakimasu!_The air about the corpse was heavy, swollen; as though the very moisture from the spilt blood itself had been sucked out and filtered into atmosphere, tingeing it with the perfume of the dead.

And, as though poured into the scene – nearly emerging from the stale cloud by way of osmosis - a lone figure _apologetically_slunk into view, fragrant with the same, rancid tang of rot and deadened flesh. It gave a non-committal harrumph that crusted over the stagnant silence as it stood considering the mess, it's pylon-like frame casting a long, mellow shadow over the twisted remains with unintentional ill-boding. A stained, threadbare handkerchief was fished from the pocket of a dust-laden overcoat and pressed against a whiskered nose while bespectacled, golden eyes rinsed with tears.

The figure knelt slowly, deliberately, for, like the humble giraffe, it deemed quite an impressive task for something so tall to get close to the ground. It folded up in sections; ankles bowing as knees bent, lowering further onto its haunches until it finally got near enough for a close inspection of the putrid mess. A testing finger poked at the gruesome pile and was rewarded by a rush of stinking, sour air; bringing forth a choked grunt from the hunched spectator. Its carelessly mowed blond beard shrugged as thin lips curled in disgust.

Hohenheim Elric did not like dead things. Though his avenue of interest, not to mention certain aspects of his physical being, generally tended to direct him towards the subject, he preferred celebrating the opposite. His borrowed guises enabled him to live indefinitely, evading the supposedly foreordained closure of death, and he used his prolonged existence to study and learn as he could. Traveling, experiencing and ultimately _living._Regardless of how his current form was speedily falling apart; collapsing from the inside out as though riddled with dry rot, he didn't class himself as deceased – perhaps more so _actively_ dead. He was a golden man, walking currency, only his wealth had accumulated in his vast reservoir of knowledge, not in the cumulous folds of his musty traveling coat or tattered trousers.

Now Hohenhiem did not know who the murdered man was, he didn't particularly _want_to know. Yet he could easily assume that whoever had killed him really, really wanted him dead. Had probably wanted him dead for a long time in actual fact.

Whoever had done it. Or _whatever._

The man, the Father, knew it had been one of them. He could smell them in the same feral, brutish way they seemed to be able to smell

_(sense)_

each other. Slowly, over time, as the human part of his soul waned he began to pick up the scent of his children until he could tell _exactly_where they had been and how long they had been there. It wasn't an anticipated side effect, but nor was it a regrettable one. Knowing the positions of the Homunculi gave him ample warning of which cities he could visit and which he should give a wide berth. He couldn't pick them _separately_by their scent of course; the Sins had been reborn a few times since the original set and there were many he didn't know about.

All except one. And he knew that one very, very well. It had been here, familiarity sidled the aroma of decomposing flesh that wafted up from the dried crust of blood, outlining the mangled corpse. Only, it was different. Modified somehow. It was still him, still

_(boy)_

but it _wasn't._Hohenhiem gave a thoughtful mumble, removing the kerchief from his nose in order to wipe a hand over his chin. He didn't like to interfere, he'd gotten over playing his accidental role of God long ago, but there was something odd about the eerie tableau before him. It felt _off._

Straightening; unfurling like a coil of shaved sunlight, Hohenheim stood still a moment in deliberation. He should really stay in the South for a while and just oversee the area in light of any _unwanted_episodes. Envy's presence was always a malignant threat, but the alterations in its overall _feel_concerned the Alchemist. He cracked a wide yawn and shoved his hands nonchalantly into his pockets; loping silently away from the scene

He didn't like it.

It was _off._

People thought the Gate had rules.

But why would an inter-dimensional portal capable of transcending time and space be in need of a code of conduct? What point was there in limiting something that could not be defined by mortal restrictions? It had no one to answer to if it did not set limits and admittedly, things tended to get much more interesting without them. _Mortals_were much more interesting.

Though the majority of humans remained safe within the confines of their boundaries; content in the knowledge that there was _nothing_bigger, nothing grander; no mysterious _deux__ex__machina_sitting, waiting in the unknown expanse of black above, ready to save them from their downward spiral toward death, there were still the odd few who persevered in proving that death was not the end of it all.

The Alchemists. The Scientists. The Seekers. Rebellious, determined, or more aptly: obsessed.

They were the small grouping of rogues who leapt the fences of reason to seek personal gain. Knowledge as they called it - though knowledge often became synonymous with 'power' and 'retribution'. Their view, rose-tinted by ability, was of a despicable adamancy toward obtaining objects of taboo. To them, secrets were _meant_to be revealed, steadfast rules broken, the prohibited questioned and the unthinkable examined. Even if the Alchemists _had_found a procedure of use to the ageless Dark Doors, they wouldn't have bothered with it. They would have unwrapped the Gate package, taken it out of its box along with the little folded map of rules and thrown them aside like they would the instructions in a box of new cards or a chess game. Who looks at instructions? Nobody.

_Especially_not those who sought to expose the Truth. Oh no. They were above all diplomatic etiquette.

There had been warnings of course. Humans knew well enough to try and counteract catastrophe. Many rules for the correct administration of Alchemy sat in tomes like rigid jury members under the Law section of the Military Libraries. Yet though the shame of punishment cast long guilty shadows in the souls of the conscience-stricken offenders, they still believed that their quest for enlightenment was justified. They were above regulations. They didn't need to be told what to do.

_What__they__need_, thought the creatures beyond the gate. _Is__a__good__slap__around__the__ears,__a__good__thousand__volts__to__the__brain__cavity.__That's__what_they_need_.

But they didn't wish it, for then there wouldn't be any fun. If only they knew.

The Gate did not have rules.

It was all about will.

People _thought_ the gate had rules.

People were wrong.

_Stupid bastards..._

He'd found out what it name meant, _really_meant, one torrid, sticky summer day back when Lust was not an Ishbalite off-cut and Gluttony said more than two words at a time. The Homunculi were much quieter in those days as the long breaks between sorties left them apathetic, with little motivation to cause mayhem. The Old Lust spent most of quiet times teaching Envy to read, for he had not the chance to learn as a human, and they would uncharacteristically ferret through their Master's slowly increasing collection of books in search of something to hone his newfound skills upon.

Greed had been around then too, taunting his elder brother relentlessly (if not recklessly) as the Shape shifter's tongue tumbled uncertainly about the texts he been given to practice with. Lust had batted him off many times, but the Greedy one just never got the hint. Envy's interest in scholastic studies was just far too amusing to ignore; even if it was purely to better his acting and camouflage skills, it was just so unlike him to indulge in anything other than demolition and Greed couldn't help himself.

They had been sitting in Dante's library; which was, at that point, just numerous piles of dusty volumes stacked and stored in no particular order in an equally nondescript room. She'd had much less of an amassment back then, and the dictionary (or at least the predecessor the of the dictionary that was to be published nearly one hundred years later) Greed had discovered and had been flipping though was a clumsy, twine-bound handwritten edition that contained lists of common words recorded in near intelligible phonetics. The monks of whom had penned the issue in their decorative, cursive script had included sets of beautiful, gold-edged pictures as well, but Greed had ignored these and instead plonked the manuscript carelessly into Envy's lap, promising that if he was able to find and describe properly the explanations of the sins, he'd lend him one of his dirty books that Dante has appropriated especially for his personal enjoyment.

Lust had mentioned that if he wanted annotations on the carnal sins then perhaps it would have been better had Envy looked at the examples in the Old Holy book, but Greed had laughed the suggestion off, proclaiming that none of the damned should ever catch a glimpse of that, lest they laugh their heads off. Only Sade had a better sense of humor, and perhaps some ideas that Envy might find useful in future.

Envy had had no idea why Lust's cheeks flushed at that statement, but was cut off as he'd set to ask why. Flustered, her fingers tripped over the curling pages and the First Lust helped him find the archetype that bore his name. He'd read:

_Envie:__Aye__feeling__of__grudging__admiration__and__desire__to__have__something__possessed__by__another.__Knowne__also__as__Enviousness__and__The__Green-Eyede__Manster,__it__be__thee__spite__and__resentment__at__seeing__the__success__of__another.__Begrudgemente._.

Greed had burst into a fit of laughter as his older brother read the passage, slapping his knee at the 'green-eyed monster' part. The Shape shifter had flicked him a disgusted look.

"Find something funny?"

"Oh," Greed wiped his eyes, still shaking with tremors of chuckles. "No, not at all. Who would find the truth funny?"

"Seems some part of it amuses you," Envy said, dryly. "Care to share?"

"No, no, seriously," Greed tucked his smile away into faux-austerity. "I think you suit the description of your title well."

"I do?"

"Yeah," Greed's face split into a nasty grin once again. "However pathetic it may be."

"You wanna repeat that? Envy cracked his knuckles menacingly, a scowl crushing his features.

"I thought it was obvious. I mean," Greed sniffed. "You're supposed to be _envious_of someone, which really means your sin has to have a counterpart for you to hate, otherwise you're not really anything are you? Greed, well I can easily be greedy on my own. Lust," He'd winked at the pale woman sitting beside his older brother. "Can be Lusty; she's quite capable of craving by herself. Gluttony can be gluttonous, Pride prideful and so on and so forth. But you... you're the only one who _needs_someone else to be sinful."

"I do not," Envy retorted, albeit uncertainly.

"'That a fact?" Greed's eyes shone with malice. "Tell me, can one become _envie__solitare?_How is that supposed to work?"

"Shut up," Envy snapped.

"Then there's envy itself," Greed continued, ignoring the crippling glare from the boy-figure on the floor. "Which is like the _toddler_ of the deadly sins. How pointless is it to just to want someone's stuff? Pretty lame when you think about it. "

"Shut _up_you arsehole!" Envy roared, hurling a heavy compendium Greed's way. It sailed quite harmlessly past his left shoulder.

_"Oooh, mummy! That boy's got a nicer whistle than mine! I want it! Ooooh, I'm so envious! Ohhhh!"_

Another book was thrown – this time far too far to the right. Greed slugged one in return fire and it hit Envy squarely on the nose.

"Idiot," the man sneered, getting to his feet as the ailing Sin howled and hunched over, clutching his bleeding face. "No, _monster._Little green monster..." He laughed, the hollow sound reverberating off the piles of books that had yet to be shelved. "_Chibi__Bakemono,_that should be your name. I think I'll call you that from now on. You really need to work on your aim."

With that, he left the room; _sauntered_away snapping his fingers in an irritating manner he thought made him appear fashionable. Why he'd decided it was, none of the others could work out: it just seemed as though he was calling for a lost pet or counting beats to invisible music.

Envy growled as the door slammed, causing a wave of heavy dust to fly into the air and he sneezed; wincing as pain shot up his briskly mending nose.

"Oh ignore him," Lust said gently, sensing the Shaper shifter's growing rage. "He's just acting up because he's new."

She got to her knees and crawled over to retrieve the makeshift missiles, placing them gently back on the piles they came from as not to incur Dante's fury if the woman found her possessions out of place.

"'Cause he's the current favourite?" Envy snorted a nostrilful of blood back into his throat and spat it out onto the floor beside him. "Hah, if he thinks I'm going to be envying _him_anytime soon, he's wrong."

"Good," Lust smiled, tucking a stray curl of her short black hair behind her ear. The bow of her pretty lips was most inviting; even to Envy, who didn't often find himself invading on the girl's turf of sexual desire. Her wide, plummy eyes flashed maddeningly with a secretive glint that stayed a reminiscent shadow of her previous form. "I don't think his head needs to get any bigger."

'What do you think though?" Envy asked thoughtfully, hugging his bare knees. " I mean, I know I'm not appallingly misnamed, but I don't have anyone I'm really, _really_jealous of."

"No?" Lust arched a single brow. "What about Hohenheim?"

The elder Sin shuddered visibly at the mention of his father's name and on instinct dug his nails into his thighs.

"That bastard..." He scrubbed at one feral incisor with his tongue. "I would waste as much time envying him as I would Greed."

"You're lying."

"I'm not," Envy replied, stiffly. "I'm not jealous of that bastard at all. I just hate him. Everything about him. I even hate that I'm mentioning his name right now..."

Lust sat back on her heels and cocked her head, jostling her short, cherubian curls; her expression solemn, but attentive. Envy knew the girl couldn't _quite_comprehend his degree of resentment toward his father, but she understood a little. All the Sins understood. Most hadn't cared.

"I really should have been Wrath." Envy reflected, after a moment.

"Perhaps." Lust juggled a rounded shoulder, nonplussed. "Or maybe Hohenhiem has something in mind for you later?"

"So I'm what," the Shape shifter toggled his expression with a bemused frown. "A _pre-emptive_Sin? Not that I'd do anything _he_wanted. Not in a million years..."

Lust was the one to burst out laughing this time and Envy shied from it a little, still unused to her foreign vociferousness.

"Well, not. I guess not. But we never know what that man has planned do we?" She tapped a cold fingertip to his face. "Your nose is better, by the way."

Envy grasped it and pinched it self consciously, as Lust's braying, boisterous chuckles tumbled about the room. He'd liked the old Lust, though his idea of _like_was simply an extension of fascination. And he _had_ been attracted to the strange, loud, voluptuous girl from the North. Not sexually... just from interest. She'd had freckles and thick, unruly curls that bounced with a life of their own that added to her overall impish air. She'd told him she had been created by someone she'd said was called a 'druid': a magic-user, which screamed evidence of Hohemheim, Envy had thought.

But she was dead now.

_(there was a noise... sobbing...)._

He'd liked her. He hadn't _loved_ her. Far from it. He'd never had much of a chance to develop the emotion and though he wasn't _cruel_toward her, he didn't really respect her. To call her a Sin seemed ironically blasphemous; her nature was so contradictory she was very nearly a mockery of the term. She hadn't been vicious in nature at all; many times she'd run headlong into fields of wildflowers while Envy stood waiting by the roadside, grumbling about her interruption of their assignment. The humans now had a word for people with her kind of attitude.

New-age something... Bo-diddly squat... no, _bohemian_.

But still, regardless of what he felt for her, when her form sickened and died, he'd experienced a new, hollow anger in her wake. She'd been feeble. Deficient. _Defective._The first candidate chosen for the title Lust had not been strong enough to hold her form, there'd been a hiccup in her format, a wrench in her workings. She'd died a twisted, melted dribble of transmutation fluid with only the lone shadow of her older brother to mourn her loss. If he _had_mourned at the time, he couldn't remember.

_(Something was sobbing... Crying very far away...)_

Greed had fled by then and Dante had her hands full trying to find him. She'd sent Envy and Lust in one direction while she and Gluttony went another, and it was then that Lust had suddenly and unexpectedly died. Envy had reported back alone, two weeks later, with news on Greed's sealing and Lust's demise. When he'd questioned his sister's odd termination, Dante had replied flippantly that she'd just been too weak. That she'd been made wrong and her form hadn't been stable enough to hold its shape or tangibility.

Hohenhiem's beasts could be destroyed by plague and sickness as easily as humans, given the incorrect structural programming.

Envy had responded to the comment in mute anger and fear. Homunculi were supposed to be ageless, immortal creatures, yet they too could become weak and die? What was that bastard playing at? How could he let that happen? And why? Why in the first place?

_(No... not just crying... Wailing... He didn't know that sound very well, but it felt like he should...)_

Hohenhiem had been embossed in his memory from then on as a failed, meddling charlatan, incapable of creating anything successful and irresponsibly abandoning the unwanted outcomes. That man, that _bastard_who thought himself important enough to subject a person-

_A son_

-to a hell he'd created himself.

_(He abandoned me...)_

Envy found himself in a dreamlike state, staring over Lust's pathetic, bubbling remains, over the burnt house in Rizenbul, over the sleeping figure of Edward and screamed and screamed until his lungs withered like dried fruit inside his chest and his voice grated his throat to searing ribbons and he realized that it actually wasn't _him_ screaming at all. It was somebody else.

_(Crying... It was... It... )_

Reality snapped back. Or at least time did.

Blackness engulfed him; it was heavy, it dragged. Envy braced himself against it, trying to move, but the weight held him while the wailing carried on and on, pitifully incessant. Soon though, the darkness lost its solidity and became a shapeless haze, tumid and undulating with oily, bodiless voices. They spoke to him. Told him that he could stay in the shadow, forget Lust, forget Ed, the baby, everything. It was much better to not know. Ignorance was a drug of choice, and a happy one at that. Who needs worry? Who needs troubles? Who needs pain in a life you didn't have to lead?

_You're gonna regret it if you don't._

To turn a blind eye... The offer was enticing, but it cost so much more than Envy found he was willing to give. The cry was too strong, too urgent, and Envy found himself pushing against the comforting haze and the sneaky voices in order to reach the source of it. Mortality wasn't his choice, but _damnit_it was his. It was _his!_

The voices, the cloud and the darkness sat back, grinning a thousand smiles as their former child pushed through the thin grey membrane into the waiting world.

_We told you so..._

Envy's eyes watered as they cracked open, letting a wave of hot, bitter smoke blind him momentarily before the light diffused from its blob-like state and spread itself into different strengths over objects and made the room appear. There was the coolness of the linoleum kitchen floor beneath his cheek and as he began to raise his head a little, the skin stuck to it as if adhered. Slippery wetness, could have been drool, could have been blood, escaped his mouth, sliming over his tongue and he nearly retched at the stench of smoke and flesh in the air.

_(Something's burning... But it's still crying it's...)_

The Sin fumbled several times as he tried to get up, his muscles and limbs flopping clumsily in drugged response to his brains instruction. His fingers skritched on the smooth floor, wrists seemingly incapable of supporting any weight, and the pads of his hands slapped the linoleum with a soft percussion. It seemed quintessential that he get to his feet, or at least raise his shoulders from the chilly floor but even with all the effort his swimming mind was putting into the act, he could not do it.

There was numbness in his body: icy pins and needles edged with a prickling, tinselly pain, and he let out a shallow groan when he attempted to move. The hurt flared spasmodically and his legs shivered, but remained still; a dead lump behind him. There was an odd damp feeling about the bottom of his stomach, the coldness of the air about it bothered him. It felt too fresh, wrong. It stung.

His head slipped again, drunk on the dingy fog and its curious scent of salt and rubber like someone had thrown a gumboot on a barbecue, kissing the floor once again and knocking his teeth a little. There _was_blood in his mouth, he could taste it now and his lip was ragged where he may have accidentally bitten in.

And still, the wail droned relentlessly.

_Hang__on,_Envy grunted to himself, rolling his head up so his chin supported his skull. _Hang__the__goddamn__fuck__on,__I'm__getting__there._

He was in the kitchen; he could see that when he opened his eyes again. The pattern of the linoleum was familiar now and as he looked up the flat, yellow painted cupboards looming over him like cheery tombstones. Smoke drifted lazily past his nose and Envy suddenly found himself wondering if perhaps the burning was his fault; maybe he'd been in the process of cooking something and had fallen and whatever it was had been left to char in the oven and...

And fallen.

_(Fallen.)_

The Sin's eyes went wide and his breath caught in a net of a gasp at the back of his throat. Fallen. He was on the floor so he _must_ have fallen. And there was blood and there was burning...

The baby...

He wrenched his head up, managing to lever himself further upright this time and twisted around, using his elbows to steady himself, to see why it was his legs refused to move. And when he _did_see, he let out a noise that might have been either the beginning of a high-pitched laugh or the crescendo of a scream.

His legs wouldn't move because they were entangled in the lengths of bloodied, sticky ropes that spilled lazily from a gaping hole in his stomach like spaghetti from a punctured can. He was open. He'd been _cut_open, flayed open, and the baby wasn't there anymore. Gore pooled quietly about the floor behind him and Envy's eyes bugged as chunks of vomit surged up his trachea. The baby wasn't there anymore.

_(Baby__was__gone.__Baby__was__crying.__The__noise..._That's_what__it__was.)_

With more animation than he'd been able to muster in the few strained seconds he'd been awake, Envy gulped back the rising nausea and, completely ignoring his injuries (and the way his severed intestines dragged out behind him in sloppy curls like unbound knitting) dug his elbows into the floor; tugging his paralysed carcass to the edge of the line of cupboards. It seemed as though the source of the wailing; the baby, was just beyond them. All he had to do was crawl just that little bit further.

Just a bit.

His fingers dug in frantically, nails splitting as he scratched and tugged and pulled his dead weight beyond the work surface and around to see the tiny figure of the baby lying in the middle of the kitchen floor

_(Where had the table gone?)_

Relief lumbered like a fool over his thrumming mind and for a few seconds he relished in the false hope that everything was all right... until he noticed that it couldn't have been the baby screaming. Not _that_baby anyway.

Not with something very long, and very pointy poking out of its head.

The knife _(needle,__spike,__bayonet)_glinted wickedly in the unearthly light; winking as if to confirm the fact that the infant was unmistakeably, horribly deceased. Envy's heart wrenched with a near audible snap, breaking free from its organic chain and galloping around his body, hollering like a madman. He tugged himself over to it; strength lapsing between frantic gasps and hunkered closer to the prone little form that lay unmoving on the kitchen floor before him. His throat wheezed and rasped in the corrosive air and he felt a series of dry sobs bubble in his chest as blank, clouded golden eyes stared back at him; unable to recognize or respond.

The pudgy, pink skin was still soft beneath his shaking fingers. Slimy sheets of membrane and other mucilaginous flotsam clung to the body, not cold yet, but losing temperature rapidly in the choking, grey atmosphere. A thick, sinuous cord trailed from its navel like a wet shoelace and drooled blood slowly onto its tiny, crooked leg.

It had been killed only minutes after it had been born. Somebody had killed it, just as somebody had sliced him open to _get_ at it. And left him...

_(left me...)_

"It's alright," came a voice from over by the sink. Smooth, offhand, _ruthless._And familiar. "That was the bad one. It won't harm us now that I've killed it."

Envy blinked a couple of times; his wet lashes clumping together with unshed, bulbous tears, and slowly lifted his head. Edward was standing in front of him, looming like the cupboards had, like the whole _world_seemed to at the moment. He seemed so tall all of a sudden, bulky and solid, out of reach. His form buttressed the unreal reality; carrying the weight on his shoulders as he stared coolly down at Envy like Atlas regarding Hercules. His expression was distant, guarded; golden eyes flashing. Envy went to speak but found he could not; he only seemed to have the ability to move his mouth dumbly over in silent disbelief as he stared.

The Alchemist had another infant propped on his slim hip, his figure bending a little to the side to counteract the weight. This one appeared to be older, more of a toddler than a baby, but when it craned to look over its shoulder; when it caught a glimpse of whatever Envy was to it: A parent, a mother, a container, it grinned with a malicious element that no child could ever _hope_to mimic. Envy felt a tightness turn in his stomach. He knew it, he was sure. It had such a likeness to... to _someone._And it knew something; it knew that _he_knew. The little blond head cocked to one side, dark eyes glowing horribly.

"But Envy," Edward continued, slowly. "Shouldn't you be dead now?"

His ears choked on the words. A hot, stabbing pain shot through his chest as his lungs seemingly imploded.

_(Dead... Envy... Shouldn't you be...)_

The Old Lust smiled at him from beyond the grave.

"Homunculi aren't allowed death, that's a luxury reserved for Humans only. You can bang on the door all you like, but you'll never get in. You know what a soul is, Envy? I do. I didn't before... But I _found__out..."_

_Shouldn't you be dead?_

"I found out, Envy. It's a ticket. The Ticket, my darling, my love."

_Envy._

_(Envy... shouldn't you be? dead with no Ticket...)_

_Envy._

"Envy!"

Someone was shaking him. Thin, blunt fingers gripped the curve of his collarbone and pressed in fiercely while his name was called again over and over until finally Envy responded; murmuring weakly as his eyelids fluttered. The kitchen was still burning, flames licking the edges of the cupboard doors; salivating over the lino with lava-like drool, making it sizzle and blister. Ed had vanished, only a thin, shining cord of an outline buzzed in the smouldering space. The room was still there; the coldness still there but the smell-

"Envy!"

- had disappeared. Envy's lashes trembled again and he realized he wasn't _actually_ looking at the Curtis' kitchen with its burning, dripping cupboards and molten flooring. The scene had altered, morphed – rather like he used to be able to do, yet seamlessly and without all the flamboyant-but-necessary pyrotechnics – and had become a strange, smeared oil painting. He was looking at a world of blind red and orange.

He was looking at the backs of his eyelids. And if he was looking at the _backs_of his eyelids, that meant they were closed. And if his eyes were _closed_, then.

_He was dreaming._

"Envy!"

The Sin let his name shoot through him like a jolt connecting his conscious with his subconscious in a wavering Jacob's ladder, before he finally rounded up his senses and blinked groggily up at Izumi's worry-creased face. She stopped in mid-syllable and let out a heavy breath. A hand briefly caressed his forehead, searching for any signs of unnatural heat, before he heard her speak again. Her voice was bloated and muffled but he understood enough to comprehend what she was saying. It was something to do with his wellbeing.

_Are you alright?_

Possibly his health.

_Do you feel ill?_

And the fact that he'd been momentarily unconscious.

_You fainted... Just take a few deep breaths... No, don't close your eyes. Try and stay awake for me, ok?_

_(Fainted?)_

Ah, so he _had_been asleep. Envy blinked, the knowledge of his passing out not yet striking a chord of embarrassment in his brain. Instead, he fought to chip footholds of control in his mind as his body began to tug back into motion on instinct alone, unable to ride on the slipstream inertia of his conscience. He _was_on the floor, but not of the kitchen, the butchery. Cold, stained linoleum stretched out before him like a placid grey lake and it was decorated with splatters of blood, crudely impersonating petals of a strange, exotic water flower. He caught himself wondering if any of the blood was his, but the notion was discarded quickly when his travelling gaze landed upon the solid, dull meat cleaver that lay in kinetic silence by his curled fingers. To the left of it was a thick wedge of beef sirloin he'd been hacking from the bone.

The blood _wasn't_his. It wasn't his blood.

_(the blood wasn't...)_

Envy blinked drunkenly and rolled his shoulders again in effort to get himself upright, but another pair of hands, huge, bulky square ones this time, grasped _(engulfed)_about his ribcage and arms and held him still. Shigu's face bore down at him with an unreadable expression that _might_have been worried, yet it seemed a parody of the largest of the fabled triplicate of bears who'd had their breakfast pilfered by a young, blonde delinquent.

"God, no, don't try to move. Don't do anything, alright?" Izumi reprimanded quickly tucking his limbs into Shigu's embrace. "He doesn't appear to be hurt," she went on, addressing her husband this time. "And the baby _seems_fine, only I'm worried he might have hit his head or something. It's like he's in shock."

"We should take him somewhere warm." Shigu agreed, his rumbling voice, even when low, probably fluttering seismometers across the globe. He stood up, easily lifting the dazed Sin over his own rather large gut and closer to his chest. Envy flopped like a rag doll against Shigu's warm T-shirt, his long toes brushing the number of doorframes they passed through as the man took him into the lounge, Izumi following close behind.

The heat in the front room hit him like a concrete wall, causing his churning stomach to heave unhappily. Envy swallowed hard and took a deep breath as Shigu laid him carefully on the sofa; clenching and unclenching his fists a little to try and draw some feeling into them. He was shivering all over, and not simply because of the startling contrast between the temperature of the cool room and the rest of the house. The dream was still on playback in his head, but it was fuzzy and far away as though seen through frosted glass. Visions swayed, shivered then cleared-

_(Ticket... ticket to ride... ticketty-boo...)_

_(Dead...Shouldn't you be... shouldn't...sh...shhhhhhhhhhh)_

-and Envy finally realized, _finally_that he was awake.

Awake.

And there was no blood. No guts. No Edward. No blond-haired, evil-eyed children. He was awake.

But still, he'd _fallen_.

Eyes wide, expression stretched, Envy's bony hands flew to his stomach not even bothering to register the confused looks on the faces of his audience. His fingers stumbled fearfully over his belly, now round and very definitely pregnant again with the near full-size bulk of the child (_not__full__of__holes__or__spilling__guts_), frantically searching for proof of life. In his dream there'd been something sticking out of it's head: it had been killed, _murdered,_by... by...

Envy shook his head a little, feeling a dribble of chilly sweat trail down his face. It had just been a dream... A dream, that's all. But now, even though the baby was still inside him... if he'd fallen... If he'd...

There was a ripple in his stomach. A shifting in the womb and familiar feel of some random internal organ being affectionately punted...

...And suddenly the pressure in his head alleviated. His ears popped and the light in the adjusted and flared. Phonics that were resounding about the room in a seamless nothing separated and became the tick of the clock, the chirping of the birds outside, children fighting in the street. Something clicked, turned and began to work again.

"Envy, answer me. Are you alright?"

Izumi was talking; she probably had been doing so for a while.

"Um," Envy answered in a weak voice, unable to think of much else to say. Not that it mattered, for the fact that the Sin responded appeared to make the woman deflate with relief as though someone had stuck a pin in her. She smiled at the Shape shifter for a moment before perking to attention as Warner marched into the lounge, Ed behind him, panting, blond bangs slick with sweat and his face flushed from exertion. He looked as though he'd been running.

The Doctor was at Envy's side almost immediately, fingers testing for abnormalities, typing over his head, chest and belly. The examination only lasted a few moments, but the tense silence that fell over the room seemed to stretch time. Izumi stood behind Warner; clasping her hands so tightly she almost could have been strangling her own fingers. Shigu sat behind Envy's head, peering over him like a massive, shaggy gargoyle and Ed hovered in the doorway, an envelope of sunlight falling lazily across his metal plated shoulder. Envy wished he'd been able to catch the blond's expression but he could not see for Ed's long fringe.

After a moment Christopher withdrew, apparently satisfied and rocked back on his heels, one hand rummaging around in his misshapen black bag.

"It's alright Izumi, he seems to be just fine."

"Oh thank God for that." She replied, her voice sailing on a whooshing sigh. "But what happened?"

"I would say, simply, that you were right in the first place: he'd fainted."

"Why, is he ill?"

Envy coughed irritably, not liking being spoken about in third person as if he weren't even in the room. Warner flashed him a small, sympathetic smile.

"The baby is getting to be quite energetic, isn't he?" he said, addressing the Sin with careful diplomatic politeness. Envy harrumphed and looked away toward the back of the couch, picking at one of the functionless buttons with his fingernail.

"He's a pain in the ass."

"That can't be right." Warner commented, his smile growing facetious. "Last time I checked he wasn't breech..."

Envy rolled his eyes theatrically.

"You _know_what I mean."

"Yes, yes." Unable to locate whatever he was looking for, Warner peered into the gaping mouth of his bag. "And I suppose he does that all night does he? Doesn't have much of an idea of your sleep patterns?"

"What's it to you?" Envy almost grunted.

"Keeps you awake, I suppose..." Christopher ignored him, pulling out a couple of small, cardboard boxes.

"Yeah."

"Well, clearly you're exhausted, it's no wonder you fainted." Warner pointed out. "With the terrible heat this summer, compulsory insomnia and all this activity you're throwing yourself into on top of that..."

"That was our fault, Christopher," Izumi confessed, sheepishly. "We thought he might like something to do."

"No, you threw me out of the kitchen you _liar!_"

"It's quite alright, Izumi, you weren't to know." Warner handed her a few, foil-coated sheets of pills from the boxes. "Take these, they're very, very mild, but they might help him rest easier. No running about from now on. I know most pregnant women can handle everyday tasks up until the last possible moment, but Envy is a special case, as we very well know. If he finds that certain activities help him relax, then you should let him indulge. As long as he's not going to exert himself, let him do as he pleases."

The figure on the couch grinned triumphantly. Izumi glared back at it.

"That said," the Doctor continued. "You _do_require a decent amount of rest, Envy. More so if the baby is keeping you awake at night. I wouldn't recommend any strenuous activity – that includes working here in the butchery."

"But!"

"Perhaps a couple of hours a day, broken up even," Warner concluded with a nod, as Envy's beaming smile careened into dismay. "Though it's important to keep up your exercise, especially at this late stage, it's better not to further the stress on your pelvis by remaining upright for long periods of time."

What're you talking about," Envy demanded. "Are you saying I have to stay in bed for _ages_? _Again?"_

"No, not continually," Warner corrected him with maddening patience. "But you should try and rest as often as you can. Such a located, singular weight can be quite difficult to bear, it's fairly evident in your stride."

"Oh, so now I _walk_funny too, huh?"

"Envy, don't get annoyed, you know he's right." Izumi scolded, gently.

"Shut up," Envy snapped. "I don't have to stay here and be insulted."

"Actually," Ed cut in, a greasy smirk slicing his face. "Yes, you do."

"Edward!"

"Yeah you'd just _love_that, wouldn't you! Bastard." Envy struggled upright with extreme difficulty; though, once again, he didn't bother with unnecessary chagrin - reminding himself to be embarrassed about it later. His seething gaze remained cemented on Ed's face as he breathed heavily, already tiring at the movement. Izumi jerked forward a little in response, but thought the better of it once she caught the expression on Envy's face. That _look._The _way_it was directed at wasn't contempt or malice as she'd seen so often scrawled across his features. It was... something else. Much more familiar...

Hurt?

The Sin levered himself off the couch and staggered purposefully toward the door, glaring at the blond the entire way and nudging him rudely with his shoulder as he pushed past into the kitchen. Once inside though, his muscles practically liquefied and he stood panting at the kitchen table, both hands planted firmly on the surface, arms shaking at the elbows, barley keeping him upright.

A blunt, boxy pain nosed around the bottom of his stomach in the filling cavity between his normally prominent hip bones and it splayed as the baby twisted in his belly; causing him to surrender a slight moan. Envy shuddered and swore lightly as the surge passed, swiping at a line of sweat that coated his face. He hated the heat; that was bad enough on its own. But the sickening discomfort from the stress on his pelvis as the baby grew and nestled further down between hips that weren't designed to accommodate its nudging weight was just horrible.

Feeling somewhat suffocated, both by the heat and the pain, Envy stumbled ungracefully over to the back door and pushed it open. Air, he needed air; something to make his brain start turning over again and not continue playing repeats of the burning dream or Ed's sweat-drenched face

_Panting... panting..._

The Sin took a few deep breaths, inhaling the sunlight and the scent of dust, grass and heat as he did so. The air outside wasn't cool either, for which he was disappointed, but at least it wasn't tinged by his seemingly infectious embarrassment. His head began to clear, finally, but the pain was alot less willing to dissipate. Envy sunk down onto the step; grateful that all the horrid neighbourhood children were, amazingly, somewhere _else_and not crowded around Izumi's door.

_Maybe__they__finally__did__something__smart__for__once,_Envy thought viciously, massaging the curve of his stomach. _And__lopped__each__other's__heads__off._

A hand interrupted his thoughts. Or at least his path of vision. Envy stared at it for a second quizzically; nearly going cross-eyed, when he realized it wasn't _just_a hand. It was a hand holding a small pottle of red and white capsules that almost appeared to be sweets, though it was obvious they were painkillers. He pounced on the hand eagerly, like a kid on a forgotten Christmas present, and began tearing at the protective cellophane about the neck.

"I wasn't making a dig at you when I said I could see how the baby was affecting your stance," Warner explained, crouching down by Envy's back. The Sin shook his dark head dismissively, not paying attention. "Surely all that pressure must be uncomfortable. Rather like, though I feel the comparison is a little unpalatable, women's menstrual cramps I suppose..."

He chuckled at the thought, but stopped quickly when he caught Envy's expression as the his head flicked up; the struggle with the pill bottle momentarily forgotten. One had to hand it to Doctor Christopher Warner: he certainly had a talent for causing the Sin to turn funny colours. Even if Envy didn't really understand what he'd said, he knew it was probably something he was _better__off_ not knowing about.

"What I mean is," the Doctor went on to explain, trying very hard not to laugh. "Ladies cramps are usually intermittent and dull: contractions of the uterus as it expels blood. I've treated many women for dysmenorrhea, which is decidedly closer to your own condition when you think about it. The pain is caused by stronger spasms as the uterus is affected by an onslaught of abnormally powerful hormones – which we could say is similar to what's happening to your peritoneal muscles. I mean, if you were anything as muscular as Edward, it might have taken quite alot of effort for the womb to push their structure outwards. Though," Christopher pinched his chin, considering the sky. "If you have been ill, the fever and lack of proper nutrition could have easily weakened your muscle structure over a period of time. Hmm, interesting. And then there's the matter of the hormones, of which I'm pretty sure have been constructed by your body for the benefit of the child since the foetus has been developing without any medical additions. You've masqueraded as a woman before, and not by simply cross-dressing as Izumi has pointed out. Did you notice any uterine pain?"

"Uter...?" Envy looked both mystified and petrified at the same time.

"Yes," Warner continued, completely unabashed. "In your female body. You never experienced periods? Menstrual bleeding?"

"Only when someone shot me," Envy answered in total bewilderment.

"Ah, I see, that would be a no then." Warner sighed through his moustache, mildly disappointed. "And I guess you wouldn't be too familiar with a woman's internal structure either."

The Sin was staring at him with an expression of skittish foreboding. His adams apple bobbed lightly in his throat, sensing a need to start a gag reflex.

"It's just that..." Warner went on, more to himself than to his patient. "I feel the pressure you're experiencing from the weight of the womb forcing the width of your hips apart in order for the foetus to reach the point of the birth canal – which you don't have, I know, but babies aren't aware if they're Cesarean or not – is similar to women's fertility discomforts where the cervix dilates to allow passage of blood dots from the uterus to the vagina in cases where the cervix is narrowed or constricted... and..."

Warner trailed off as Envy began swallowing large, invisible lumps of disgust.

"Er... Sorry. Only I do find the changes your body is making to be entirely fascinating."

There was a forced grunt in response then the pill bottle was back to being fumbled about in Envy's grasp, its contents clicking against each other like medical maracas. Warner tapped his glasses and gently reached over, plucking the object out of the Sin's thin fingers.

"It's a child-proof lock," he explained with a wry grin, noting how very much Envy _was_still like a child. "You open it like this."

He demonstrated, pushing the thick, white lid down hard, then turning anti-clockwise. The Shape shifter's mawkish expression turned salty as the pill bottle was opened and he grumbled as he dug his fingers past the protective cotton wool into the brightly coloured contents.

"Ah... only two at a time and only twice a day, or you'll definitely be doing yourself more harm than good." Christopher warned him. "Oh, do you need a glass of..."

Envy had gulped the pills dry by the time Warner had gotten around to offering him some water to take them with. Choking slightly, he pressed his fingers against his white throat and managed to croak:

"What are they?"

"Just paracetamol." Warner replied, rubbing at his eyes beneath his glasses.

"You said that wasn't effective." Envy remarked bitterly, glaring at the pills in the Doctor's hands as though admonishing them.

"I did." Warner raised his brows, impressed at the Sin's memory. "And they weren't at the time. Only now, such strong painkillers aren't necessary, I'm sure you can deal with a little discomfort."

"Yeah?" came the tart reply. "Well you tell me how well _you_cope next time _you've_got a seven pound beachball stuffed under your skin that seems to have a life-goal of splitting you apart from gonads to gullet."

With that, Envy scrambled upright, using the doorframe for support, snatched the pills from the Doctor's hand and retreated into the house. Warner huffed and shook his head, grabbing his bag from inside the door. An arrow of a smile puckered the corner of his mouth as he stepped out into the prickling sunlight of the back garden. The Sin was obviously less than impressed with the Doctor's final prescription, but Warner had to be firm. He knew the boy was in pain – a grinding, nagging kind of pain that bends bones and with blunt force pushes a steely ache into muscles – but the paracetamol he'd provided was the strongest medicine he could give to Envy from now on. The drugs in the IV had been fairly potent, but their measure was specific, brief and balanced with Envy's overall condition at the time. To give him something as strong as meripedine now would not be a wise idea.

Spinning smartly on his heel, Warner turned towards the street where he could hear the shouts and wails of the neighborhood children in the street beyond. The little barefoot bandits swarmed near Izumi's house in an abundance of skinned knees, blackened plasters; tape, glue and grimy toes. For some reason they liked to play outside the Curtis' and Warner guessed this was because she kept a large supply of bandages and plasters in a small cupboard near the kitchen door; a tin of biscuits on the shelf and a kiss at the ready for a bruised shin or banged elbow.

Something to his left, sloping in his peripheral vision attracted the corner of his eye and then, from seemingly out of nowhere a young boy emerged, _materialized_, padding over the shadows of the guttering and greeted him with a strange smile.

It was toothy... Too toothy. Mouthy seemed a more appropriate description.

Warner's brain said_'it's__too__big,__that__mouth.__Too__many__teeth__and__too__white,'_ but he ignored it as the boy trotted closer, the grin sawing his face and a secret in his eyes. And _what_ eyes... so dark: smudged some odd, forgotten shade from the cesspool end of the indigo spectrum.

"Was that the cookie Lady?" He asked sweetly and with a slight lisp. Warner wasn't surprised, given the size of those teeth.

"Yes," He lied, easily. The kid's eyes flashed a little and the Doctor stepped back, leaned back, still trying to smile but finding it increasingly difficult.

"Is she having a baby?" More teeth _(He__had__more?)_ and the befreckled lips skinned back over them. Apple cheeks were aglow with sunburn and the thin, downy mop of blonde hair stuck to his face with sweat just like any normal boy only he simply didn't_feel_like one. Warner ignored this for the moment and nodded, thumbing his glasses up as the metal rims slid on the perspiration beading on the bridge of his nose.

"Yes she is. Due soon actually, then there'll be a new little boy or girl for you to play with."

"Where're her boobs?"

Warner blinked a second, taken aback. Had he heard correctly?

"Excuse me?"

"Why doesn't she have any boobs?" The boy repeated, tugging on the end of his grimy t-shirt. The grin that played about his face bothered the Doctor, as did the odd tone that sat upon the inquisitive pitch of his voice like a blackbird on a telephone wire.

"That's not a very nice thing to say." Warner chided, lamely. In normal instances he was firm with rude and naughty children - he did have three himself, not to mention his extended family of runny-nosed, chicken-poxed patients – but this one... This particular boy... _grated._"Everyone is different shapes and sizes... She _is_a very small lady without all that tummy."

The teeth were bared. They _breathed._Reality shifted onto its other foot and a shadow of a migraine pierced Warner's temple as the sunlight just _suddenly_got too bright.

_"Don't__fuck__with__me__you__patronizing__needle-dick.__The__fat__bitch__hasn't__got__any__fucking__tits,__any__shithead__with__an__IQ__of__three__could__see__that.__She__ain't__got__no__tits__Doc,__no__rack!__I__know__what__she__is,__you__fucking__lying__bastard.__I__know_him_all__too__well__so__you__can't__fool__me!"_

If there were words spoken, if he heard them, Warner's brain sure as hell didn't know what to do with them. He could have _sworn_the kid had said something - the afterbirth of a sentence hung in the air light a static cloud, but Christopher's ears seemed swamped in a muffling concoction of yellowed cotton wool and battery acid. The kid's smile _(grin,__leer)_was cackling at him, cocking one bootblack beady eye. Then the blackbird pounced off the wire in a storm of black feathers and the boy was a boy again, the sun was warm and the strange, nipping feeling of wrongness seeped away from Warner's joints.

"You okay Mister?"

It seemed somebody else asked, but it was the kid, all right. Wide eyes stared up at him inquisitively, like little globes of night.

"Er, yes..." Warner's brows crushed the top of his glasses, then withdrew and pushed up his forehead instead. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"The Lady's gonna give me a cookie!" Excitement. Small thumbs dug at jean pockets.

"Is she?"

"Uh-huh, yesterday. Cos-cos the big metal man that lives here stood on my toe an' he said I could have a cookie and a blue plaster an' I was gonna have one but mummy called me so I had to go but I came back for it. Does the lady make the cookies, do you know?"

The amount of information was astounding, but Warner was used to the way children ignored the rudimentary verbal stop signs when they spoke.

"I think she does. Listen, why don't you knock at the door politely instead of lurking about outside, hmm?"

"Okay Mister,"

The child bounced on his toes and grinned again. Somehow the teeth had shrunk and were short and blunt with an incisor missing on the left side. There were no elongated canines, no glinting, no birds. Warner dusted his coat absently – he'd been reading horror stories again before bed and he took this episode as a reminder that he really ought not to. For such a practical man, his imagination could get overwhelming at times. He gave the boy a curt nod and walked away.

"Don't bother the nice lady now, go and play afterwards, okay?"

The boy bobbed his head in affirmative, hopping from one bare foot to the other. Yet, when the Doctor turned the corner of the house and started up the street, he did not knock on the door as expected. Nor did he return to the others in the street. He simply stepped back into the shadows and disappeared, almost as if he'd been brushed out of the picture.

Complaisance was like a shoe to Envy.

A new shoe, tough leather, unmalleable. He wasn't sure if he liked the fit: it rubbed and cut in; bit with a sharp, toothless jaw. The fact that Envy hadn't worn shoes on his chosen form _ever_was another point to consider. Surely Cinderella's beauty-challenged stepsiblings had an easier time with cubic zirconium stilettos than he did with volunteered amiability.

He didn't like the fit. He didn't like it at _all._

It wasn't that he was there by choice. By no means.

And he wasn't there to be civil either; if it turned out that he had to be, then it was only because the situation called for it, not because he wanted to. Envy shrank against the doorframe to Ed's room, silently watching as the other boy shoved a few folded t-shirts into an already stuffed suitcase, trying to be invisible but at the same time, not.

He almost wanted Ed to start talking first, to save him the embarrassment he was already suffering at the simple fact of being within five feet of his 'enemy' and having not yet insulted him. But Ed hadn't seemed to even notice his presence and appeared to have all his attention focused on his frantic packing. His back was to the Sin, bent over the small case on his bed.

He was dressed differently for once: wearing light colored garment after having finally been pushed into buying some summer clothes by both Izumi _and_Winry (who'd made the insinuating comment that he probably had to grease his legs with Vaseline in order to peel his leather trousers off by the end of the day). He looked surprisingly mature decked out in a pair of dun-colored slacks and an airy, white shirt that Izumi had picked up in the marketplace a week ago. She'd bought Envy a couple as well, reasoning that the T-shirts he'd been provided with were getting ragged after nearly six months of constant wear and he needed something a little less heavy now that summer was coming to an end and the temperature had climbed by another baffling five degrees.

_(He looks... good...)_

Envy scratched absently at his elbow through the fabric of the shirt, then tugged at his rolled sleeves fretfully, reminding himself that he was there for a reason.

Sort of.

But just as Envy went to say:

"Um..."

And then possibly comment on how short Ed looked in his new pants (especially since he'd had to pin them up), said Alchemist spun round on his heel, tucking his arms about himself grouchily, a wary expression on his face.

"Look, you've been hovering in the doorway for ages already, yet you haven't poked fun at my height, my hair or anything else about my person for that matter. Nor have I had anything thrown at my head, so I can only assume that you want something." Ed dropped his chin a little, giving the impression that, if he wore glasses, he'd have been peering over the rims accusingly. "Right?"

_(I want you.)_

_(I want you so badly I can't think straight when you're around._

_I don't know why and I don't care anymore._

_So what if I wanted to kill you before?_

_Now all I want to do is stretch you out over that bed and lick every single part of you there is to lick and... and... and... )_

Envy licked his lips, mentally booting the stupid and completely gratuitous statement into the back of his mind, before he sidled as nonchalantly as he could into the room. His hands were still tugging at his rolled-up cuffs and when he realized what he was doing, fumbled anxiously with them, trying to find some kind of activity that didn't show his bounding nerves.

"Who said I wanted to... er... Well, what I mean is I..." Envy sighed as his pointless jabber floundered between period rests. "You're going to Central again."

"Yeah, we normally do." Ed cocked an eyebrow. "You _might_have noticed."

"Erm... How long will you be?" The Sin was kicking himself over the unwanted courtesy, but if he was trying to encourage Ed to talk to him, just _talk_, then he'd have to put up with it. As it was he was having trouble looking the blond in the eye, his gaze preferring to gallop about the room as he binned up his courage not to turn tail and run like buggery. "You know," he added. "This time around."

"Just a couple of days," Ed answered, still not moving. His aloof attitude unnerved Envy more than if he'd come at the Sin with a knife in hand. _That_kind of thing the Shape shifter could handle, but conversations? No way. And he was lying to himself the first time; he _did_have something to say. Really. It was just another matter of finding a way to say it.

_(I want you.)_

"Why so short this time?"

Edward shrugged, finally unfolding his arms and rested them on his hips, threading his thumbs through his belt loops.

"Not much to do at the moment." He replied airily. "It's still so quiet... well... _everywhere._Not that _you'd_know anything about that."

Ed shot Envy a knowing look as he said this and was mildly surprised when the Sin shook his head lightly in return as if to say: _Stop__farting__about...__You__know__I__don't..._

"Besides," the blond continued. "Mustang doesn't want me there."

"Eh?"

"He wants," Ed submitted with a chagrined exhale. "Me to 'stay and look after my 'guest' so she can come and visit once she's able to travel.'" Golden eyes darted to the left. "At least, that's the _summary_of what he wrote..."

"Meaning once she'd had the... well, _I've_had the... Mmm..." Envy twiddled with a shirt button uncomfortably. _It's__all__right..._his brain assured him. _It__may__be__quiet__and__slow__going,__but__this__is__what__humans__call__'civilized__conversation'.__Just__keep__with__it._

"Exactly." Edward finished. "Is that all you wanted to ask? 'Cause I'm in a hurry, you know. The others have already gone ahead to wait at the station."

Envy's brain said: _Crap._

"Er," Envy scraped at the floorboards with his toenail. "Actually I just wanted to ask you...um... You know, if... ahh..."

The Sin chanced a glance at Edward, who had by now cocked his head quizzically to one side, his face a perfect example of slightly impatient curiosity. He hadn't tied his hair up in its habitual braid yet and the flaxen strands caught the afternoon sunlight like gold thread, spilling a shining trail down his back. Envy gulped, feeling his libido slip gently down into his pants like an egg white escaping through closed fingers.

_(Civilized__conversation,__you__bastard.__Just__because__you're__not__insulting__him,__doesn't__mean__you__can_jump _him!)_

"You wanted to ask what?" Ed said, frowning a little.

"Um," Envy had added a new work to his vocabulary. It was 'Um'. It was also his new catch phrase. "What I wanted... um..." He took a breath then continued, albeit speedily. "Are you goingtotakecareofthebabyonceI'm...gone?"

Edward's expression dropped in surprise at the same and Envy felt a blush prickle over his cheeks at the reaction. It wasn't _quite_what he was going to ask, but he'd work at that. It was a start.

"I don't understand," Edward blurted out as his voice returned. "Once you're... gone?"

"I told you that morning," Envy said, his voice wobbling slightly with nerves and embarrassment. "How I doubted I'd live...afterwards. You remembered that... yeah?"

"Yeah," Ed scratched at his cheekbone, taken completely by surprise by the Sin's sudden concern for the baby's welfare. It was obvious by the way Envy was shifting from one foot to the other, fidgeting, that he didn't find the situation comfortable either, so why was he putting himself through it? He only seemed to be civil when he was really, really serious. And he only _spoke_to Ed when he was being serious; bickering didn't count.

"Well?"

"What?"

"Are you?" Envy hated the fact that he had to repeat himself, but Edward seemed almost blundering over the question- as though equally red-faced - which was an interesting development in itself.

"Don't be an idiot." Edward retorted, a little more rudely than he'd meant. "I know your pregnancy wasn't exactly _planned_... At least, I _believe_it wasn't..." he shot Envy a suspicious glare, proving his continual disbelief in Envy's ignorance of the Homunculi's supposed 'plans' and in return the Sin nearly slapped a palm to his forehead in exasperation. "But it's not like I wouldn't take care of my own child. Because it _is_partly my child. And I wouldn't... I'd never leave him... you know..."

Envy clenched his jaws together tightly, only a twitch of the muscle in his cheeks betraying any emotion. He knew. He knew it just as well as Ed did.

"Besides," Ed continued, directing his gaze to the floor. "I don't think you're going to die anyway."

"But I'm-" Envy protested, only to be cut off as Ed raised a hand.

"I don't think you are."

"So then," Envy continued, unconsciously lowering his voice. "You're saying you'd look after it, even if I were alive. And if I was, where does that put me?"

The Sin was nervous enough already, but when Edward didn't say anything and glanced quickly out the window instead, the tension in the air pulled taut over his chest. His breath caught and a bundle of words he'd prepared in reply sat undecided at the back of his mouth.

"Hey?"

"Mm?"

"Where does that put me?"

"Anywhere you like," Ed sniffed distractedly and shuffled back to his waiting case.

Envy blinked.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Part of the Sin _really_felt like slamming the suitcase over Ed's head at moment; folded socks and all. But another part of him froze over, dreading any further conversation. Something in his conscience probed around his head, searching for his ego to give him a bit of a confidence boost, but the bastard had run off without so much as leaving a 'back when you've stopped being mental' note.

"Nothing," Ed mumbled, squishing the lid of the case down hard on the spilling contents. It wasn't going to work. For a guy who seemed to wear the same outfit day in, day out, he somehow tended to possess alot of clothes. Irked, he turned around and sat on the lid.

"Um..."

"What?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What's _what_supposed to mean?" Ed bounced a little on his luggage until he was able to slide the catches closed. Without looking at Envy, he leapt off the bed, tote in hand and barreled past him into the hallway. A sudden bubble of anger pushed through the suffocating lump in Envy's chest and the Sin did an about-turn, thundering after the Alchemist and practically snapping at his heels as they both rumbled down the stairs.

"Don't be a shithead, O'Chibi!" He growled, chasing Ed into the kitchen. "What are you trying to say here? You don't care what I do once _you_have the kid in your mitts? How do you know I don't want...?" Envy faltered on the question with a huff, not at all sure where he was going with it. _Did_he 'want'? "I mean, you said so yourself, the kid is _partly_yours, so it's party _mine_as well."

"Yeah, but you don't want it."

"I never said that!"

"Oh really?" Ed turned to face the Shape shifter, on hand poised to turn the back door handle. There was something nasty in his eyes, something quite, quite menacing. His brilliant irises had frozen over like trapped sunlight in ice; only the light flickered every so often as though something was _indeed_trapped. As though Edward had something _else_to say-

_I want you_

-but couldn't bring himself to say it. Gloved hands clenched as he continued. "So 'I don't care anymore' and 'It's a pain in the ass' are just terms of endearment? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I seriously _doubt_you have any real interest in bringing up children."

"You don't either!"

"Who says? I'd be better at it than you!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Did someone put you on 'replay' or something?" Edward barked and his tone backcombed over Envy's spine. Is that what _he_sounded like when he taunted Ed? "Look, what I'm saying is, once the baby is born you can do what you like. You don't need to feel as though you have to stick around."

At that point, Envy was still navigating closer to Edward and the door, and nearly tripped over his own surprise when the blond so casually brushed him off.

"And if I _want_to stick around?"

Edward stared dumbly at him a moment, his mouth phrasing and re-phrasing several different responses. The tough, well-chiseled personal defenses that he'd piled up over many years of consciously bottling his inner grief and mourning rose up clanged Ed's internal panic bells. Sudden displays of emotion baffled him and he was renowned for 'changing the subject very quickly' on such occasions.

But with Envy, with the experiences he'd endured from the Sin's awkward affections and the confusion that fell in their wake, Edward felt his barrier turning offensive and primal instinct butted in. Compassion was not an emotion he handled well and the tried and true 'turn a blind eye and pretend not to notice' technique wasn't working. Edward panicked, lashed out like a cornered fox and made a bolt for it when the hunters shied in fear.

The door was flung open with a sudden shove and a warm blast of summer air pushed into the room.

"I've got to go."

He stepped backwards out the door and escaped up the garden path to the side of the house...

...That is, he _attempted_to escape, only Envy had grabbed his hand and held it tightly in his own cool, thin grip.

"What if I wanted to stay," he said so quietly, Edward could have sworn he was just hearing his thoughts. " Edward..."

_The hunters had traps..._

"It's the heat, isn't it," Ed said in a loud voice, wobbling with top-heavy false confidence. "It's making you crazy. You're saying weird things, did you know?"

"Sh-shut up!"

"No, no," the Alchemist donkeyed a shrill, mirthless laugh, snorting slightly at the end. "Honestly, since when would you want to care for something you were so keen on destroying. That counts for both the baby _and_me, because you were going to kill me, weren't you. Or your weren't going to forgive me... It was one of those, I forget..."

"Maybe I've changed my mind..." Envy stated sullenly, feeling more hopeless than ridiculous. He'd put his foot in it now, but the shoe was the wrong size, it refused to fit. It hurt.

"Sure, sure," Edward grit his teeth. "And you expect me to believe you?"

"Yeah, well maybe I'm just speaking hypothetically," Envy shot back, still not letting go of Ed's wrist. "But even if I am, what is it about that you can't accept?"

"_Everything_about it!" Edward snapped. "I don't trust you, Envy. You know that. We had it as kind of an understanding. So why should I _accept_all this weird behavior you're throwing at me?"

"You said we had a truce."

"Yeah, a truce: I wasn't going to let you and the baby die and in return you weren't going to hurt or kill anyone _I_know. Again." Edward added, narrowing his eyes on the last part.

"And what was supposed to happen once the baby _was_ born?" Envy countered, still attempting to stay as 'civil' as his pride would possibly let him. It was just unfortunate that his pride had decided to take a long walk with his ego, leaving very little for him to defend himself with. Envy wasn't quite sure why he persisted with the argument, but he'd gotten to a point he couldn't turn back from. A sheer expanse of nothing stretched ahead of him; the enigma of life, of humans and emotions. Of Souls. If Envy truly wanted to find out the truth of these matters he had to surrender, let himself go.

Fall.

_(It's the Ticket, my love... the Golden Ticket... You've gotta have it to ride or you aren't going to go anywhere...)_

"What was supposed to happen was that your buddies were going to come and get you and I wouldn't be _dealing_with you now. You and your... crazy... uh... reactions... and... your... Unpredictability... yeah!" Ed wrenched his hand out of Envy's grip and rubbed it briskly, not noticing as the Sin moved even closer. "Anyway, this conversation is over, I'm going to miss the train if I don't leave now. And hopefully when I get back you'll have forgotten all about this and will hav-_mmmfffhhh!"_

_'Mmmfffhh!'_being the expression one tended to mutter when someone else kissed them.

Kissed them.

Kissed _him._

Intentionally. Not accidentally. There were no slips, no mix-ups, no blushes. Envy kissed Edward. He leaned forward, down a little and gently, very, very gently, pressed his lips against those of the blond. His eyes were half open, caught between gauging reaction and becoming lost in insecure need.

_(I have nothing left...)_

He _kissed_him.

Edward stiffened, fully intent on rejecting the unexpected gesture, but caught himself recalling the dream of so many months ago-

_Why did it stick?_

-and thinking how very much Envy _did_taste of peppermints.

_Probably the toothpaste._

And how warm his breath was as he exhaled quietly through his nose.

_Breath_is_warm,__idiot._Everyone's_breath__is__like__that._

And how his hair, skin... God, every _part_ of him smelt good. Not soap good, or perfume good. Just _good._Inviting.

_For__fuck's__sake,__I'm__not__thinking__this,__I'm_not!

Edward snapped back so fast he tripped on the last few steps; only _just_regaining his balance once his feet hit solid ground. He stared at the Sin for a split second, desperately trying to sever the invisible emotional tie that the Shape shifter had unknowingly looped about him, before he managed to mutter:

"Gonna... miss... thing."

... in a strange, strained voice. He remained frozen a moment longer, then his legs remembered what they were supposed to be used for and carried the rest of him in a speedy yet somewhat arthritic gait up the garden path and around the side of the house.

Envy watched him disappear, absently running a finger across his lips. What exactly he'd been trying to achieve by performing such an act, he wasn't sure of. Only that he hadn't wanted Ed to respond to backfireas it had. He'd _expected_it, naturally, but he hadn't _wanted_ it. Something inside Envy, something that _wasn't_his libido or any other sex-crazed part, quietly prayed Ed _had_missed the train and that he would return shortly; giving Envy the chance to either explain himself or start a full-on assault of shoe-missiles.

Fingers frozen on his lips as if trying to _feel_the taste of Edward on them, the Sin stood still a moment longer; listening to his inner voices in a detached way – rather like one listens to the conversations of others in a crowd, on a bus, in a waiting room.

His brain said: _You've__blown__it._

His libido said: _You_frigid _bastard!_

His subconscious said: _I__want__cookies._

His conscience said: _I_need_cookies.__After__all__that..._

His Ego posted a telegram: _What__the_hell_are__you__doing?_

But Envy himself said nothing, only crept dazedly back into the house, closing the door behind him. From inside there came a repeated, hollow thudding sound which could have been Envy bashing something of Ed's to pieces in a babyish tantrum.

Could have been.

Or perhaps it was Envy beating his head against one of the cupboard doors as he wrestled despondently with his overwhelming emotions that attacked areas he'd never really had practice in developing.

Perhaps.

But no one was to know.

No one _except_the owner of a long, pointed shadow that slithered in a particularly reptilian manner up the side of the house away from the door.

The sleep of reason breeds monsters and the monsters are very, very much awake.

_I__know_him _all__too__well,__You__can't__fool__me!_

Teeth breathed.

_And if you thought I'd take your hurt away  
>I'm sorry<br>And if you thought I'd make this feeling stay  
>I'm Sorry<br>I'm so sorry_

- _Fur__Patrol_

The red lights were flashing at her.

Izumi blinked and squinted groggily through the darkness toward the odd, scattering katakana of red L.E.D. dashes that glared back at her back at her from the beside table. She frowned a little, mesmerized at the random pattern and completely at loss for an explanation of the cause of the glow. But as she stared, the illuminated ticks moved again, dislocating and contorting into a different position, and after few bewildered seconds, she realized the pulsing red lights was the display on the face of her alarm clock and the pattern wasn't random at all. It was numbers. And the numbers read three o' clock in the am.

3am.

_fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck_

Izumi groaned. Why was _she_the one who'd been woken up by a noise downstairs at three o'clock in the morning-

_Three o-clock, damnit!_

-while her lump of a husband continued to snore away in regular, nasal rasps – his eyes open and staring in his most unique way of sleeping. What if it was a burglar? Izumi gave him a hard nudge in the guts with her elbow and sighed, defeated, as he simply grunted louder. In truth, Goliath-husband or no, she'd probably pose more threat to the burglar than half the Southern Military's armored guard.

There was another noise; a mechanical lurch of the plumbing, which, she decided, must have been the tap in the kitchen. Not likely to be the robber getting himself a drink, Izumi concluded; therefore it must be Envy. The selfish desire to simply turn over and continue sleeping was desperately tempting, but the woman surrendered another groan as her midwife instincts shook it's finger disapprovingly; lecturing her tired brain on the fact that the boy shouldn't be lumbering about in the dark in his fragile, unbalanced condition. That and he probably wasn't very comfortable in this heat. She really _ought_to check on him. Really.

_Really._

Izumi huffed, peeled herself away from the damp sheets and padded downstairs, stumbling a little and rubbing her eyes. Envy was in the kitchen, standing a lone, dark shadow by the sink, his back to the door. One hand knuckled the small of his back, the other rested lightly beside a tall glass of water that had, as of yet, not been touched. Though he usually tended to react with a scathing sixth sense (which he duly labeled his 'asshole detector') toward anyone approaching from behind, he did not seem to notice her as she entered the room. Instead, he quietly regarded the curved fang of the waning summer moon with near halcyon inquisitiveness and besides the continual massaging of his back, didn't move a muscle when Izumi drew up beside him.

"Still can't sleep, huh?" She said in a husky voice. Her throat was gummed with sleep and her mouth felt hot and fuzzy like it had been smeared with something of the dairy persuasion had been left in the sun for a day or two. Envy shrugged mildly in answer, the motion being more of a muscular twitch than anything, and tapped his long fingernail against the side of the water glass.

Izumi rubbed her face, trying to wipe the sleepiness from it. She considered the possibility of indulging in some sort of placid conversation to ease Envy into confiding his discomfort with her, but decided against it; remembering that the Sin had very little tolerance for small talk. He'd probably been up for awhile, as it was near impossible to sleep with the movement of the baby and the increasing pressure on his hips and back muscles. That and it was _hot._The end of summer was one of the worst times to be pregnant, since the added heat of the baby, like a miniature internal furnace, just added to his body's already sweltering discomfort.

"Are your sheets too warm? I thought I'd put the thinnest ones on your bed, but I could see if there might be better ones."

_Tink tink._

The tapping continued. Fae-like shoulders pulsed again and the most minimal of shrugs told her this was possibly so, but he wasn't going to admit it.

Izumi sighed and plucked a glass from off the dish rack. Talking to Envy _used_ to be like conversing with an irate terrier that could speak and had an astonishing collection of derogatory terms at it's disposal, but in the past few weeks he'd become increasingly silent; so much that Izumi felt she was talking to a detailed cast rather than the Sin himself. She filled the glass from the tap, then ambled over to the table, plonking rather ungracefully into a chair.

"Does your back hurt?" she asked after a moment's contemplation. The water seemed to wake her up a bit and cleared the brillo-pad feel in her throat. Finally, Envy turned his head and looked over to her, his expression being that of someone who _wanted_to be annoyed, only could not muster the energy for it.

"You're not going to go away anytime soon are you?" he stated, tiredly.

"Nope," Izumi confirmed, tenacity playing on her resurrected vocal chords. "Not until you go back to bed.

"I can't sleep, your doctor-friend told you that."

"His name is Christopher. Or Doctor Warner if you _really_don't feeling like being personal. And I know for a fact that babies are usually lulled to sleep by rhythm the mother's breathing," Izumi informed him, turning the glass in her hands. "But they can also react to stress when the mother is worried about something. Tension of the muscles, irregular respiration, restlessness, that kind of thing."

"So you're saying that it's not keeping me up, but I'm keeping _it_up?"

"Something like that,"

The Sin let out a relinquished sigh and padded over to the table, his own water glass in hand. He pulled out a chair with a hollow squeak and poured himself into it, hunching over his chest; arms splayed out in front of him. Suddenly the cramped kitchen seemed so much larger; the invading moonlight brightened as if someone had flicked off the dimmer switch. The blue glow that somewhat aged the room, giving the false impression that everything was made of marble, intensified suddenly; making Envy seem so much smaller, so much more fragile, as the shadows that outlined any lasting traces of muscle formation on his thin white arms were shooed away. His dark hair fell into his face, hiding his features and Izumi felt the motherly urge to sweep at some of the tendrils that had escaped the twisted knot at the back of his head.

Of course, she stayed her hands. She knew better than that. It was wise to approach Envy one step at a time. Baby steps. Baby-with-manacles-on steps.

"You can tell me what's bothering you, if you like," she probed carefully, her eyes fixed on the down turned ledge of his brows. He uttered a low snort of consonants, which rather sounded like a disgruntled teenagers standard reply of '_nuffing'_, yet Izumi's concern remained unsated. It was _his_fault she was up at three am, he wasn't exactly the _quietest_of people, so he was going to have either go back to bed or give in. It was a refined fact that the less of a deliberate nuisance Envy made himself, the _more_of a nuisance he was.

That and she was also worried.

The fainting incident had proven rather dramatically, the extent of his physical weakness and as she began to watch closer she noticed the little gestures he'd obstinately been trying to mask – probably for quite some time. The dark circles under his eyes, hidden by his long fringe. The quick, barely noticeable rubs to his back and hips when he thought no one was watching. The way he'd unconsciously grip the bottom of his belly, eyes glazing slightly with pain as the baby's kicking, weight and heat became a little too much to handle.

Izumi stretched and reached a hand around to itch underneath her dreadlocks where the sweat caused from the heat under the thick braids was irritating her scalp. She daren't even _think_of how he'd cope with labor.

"You've been quiet tonight, even for you. You didn't even complain about dinner – and I burnt it specially."

The woman smiled warmly at this, but Envy just ignored her: instead linked his fingers together, tracing the purplish shell of his thumbnail while shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Izumi noted his fidgeting as she sipped at her water and frowned as his breath stalled momentarily in his throat, possibly rounding a surge of pain or nausea, then recommenced; a little heavier than before. It was clear the Sin was fretting over his predicament and the frightening changes happening within his body as it weakened further. But, like most of the men she was familiar with, he was not at all revered for voicing his concerns. Commiseration had been left off his list of talents.

"It might help you sleep if you talk to me."

"...nothing to talk about." He answered stonily.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes," Envy lifted his head only to have it struck dramatically by a thick wash of moonlight as though someone had thrown a bucket of off-white paint over him. His expression was that of mild annoyance; brow digging a frown in his forehead, but he didn't seem as drop-of-the-hat irritable as he'd previously been. "I'm fine. Just dandy. Fuck, why is it you always feel you've got to play House Shrink?"

"Maybe because you _need_one." Izumi parried, gently.

"Is that so?" His voice _should_have been angry, it usually was at this point, but he appeared to have it under control for once and was speaking in a clipped whisper that was weighted with tiredness and exasperation. "And what makes you think that?"

"Possibly the fact that you're pregnant in a male body, having been as ill as you were for so long after never being ill at all and having suffered some decidedly grievous personal disasters just seems to give me the inkling. I firmly believe thatthe hour of oh-three-hundred only exists to truly successful insomniacs or people with alot on their mind. Or their chest. Or lower, so to speak. I just thought perhaps it might be good for you to talk about it."

"Don't be an idiot," Envy grumbled, slumping onto his forearms.

"I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"Oh come on," Izumi pressed. "I've even been known to put Edward at ease this way. And he's one of the _worst_at bottling things up. It's a small wonder – no pun intended – that he doesn't explode what with all the turmoil he keeps inside."

"I don't care."

"Envy, what's bothering you?"

"Nothing!"

"You know, he told me about what you said." Izumi began, purposely trailing off the end of the sentence in false contemplation.

"What I said?"

"About how your body isn't... Well it isn't _real_now that the Homunculus part of you is gone." She nibbled on her middle fingernail. Personally she found the concept particularly indigestible and, like Edward, stubbornly refused to accept it. "About how you think you'll perish once the baby is born."

"Yeah, and?"

"While I think it's understandable for you to be worried, are you _really_sure that's what's going to happen?"

"You think its bullshit too, don't you?"

"Well, do you _know?"_

"No," Envy admitted. "But I don't have a soul, nor do I have a substitute."

"Substitute? As in a Homunculus?"

"Yeah."

"How does _that_work?" Izumi was intrigued. She knew that Homunculi were soulless creatures; Wrath had pointed that out, but she'd never figured out exactly how they _did_manage to live. If Envy was so convinced that a soulless reincarnation could not tangibly survive, then how was it the artificial humans did? Was it to do with the red stones? Could she help him if she found some more? It was a risk she'd be willing to take, but he hadn't mentioned anything about them.

"I don't know," he lied.

"Oh..." Disappointment.

Envy sucked in his lower lip, feeling unnaturally guilty about the defense fib. And just as equally unpalatable was his lack of disgust at the fact he no longer abhorred the woman's presence; he actually tended to relax near her. Even when they argued he found her nature strangely calming. Perhaps he was just getting soft in his mortality.

_Or__maybe,_he thought to himself, circling the rim of his glass with a forefinger. _I__really_am _going__crazy.__Next__thing__I__know__I'll__probably__be__blabbing__all__of__Dante's__secrets__to__her__over__tea__and__biscuits._

He considered this a moment, reasoning that in light of his brethren's betrayal and his own abandonment, to turn traitor and clue up the enemy seemed like the perfect revenge. But his dogged loyalty lifted its head and admonished him with a perfunctory gaze under heavy canine brows. Envy wiltered a little; even if he _wanted_to rebel, his inner programming automatically repelled the thought.

"Why... um..." He cleared his throat, slightly, eager to change the subject. "Why did Elric tell you about me?"

A slow smile brewed behind Izumi's lips.

"What do you mean?" She asked, knowing full well what he meant.

"I thought he didn't give a shit."

"Really? You'd be wrong, you know."

"No I'm not," he mumbled in a tone that doubtlessly sought to be amended.

_"Mrs. Curtis, Bradley keeps picking on me!"_

_"Well, sweetheart, maybe that's 'cause he likes you?"_

_"No he doesn't!" pause... "Did he say he did?"_

"Envy, that night Edward somehow managed to pull you out of a place that none of us were sure you'd return from." Izumi explained. "It's my opinion that he wouldn't have been able to do that had he not cared for you or for his child. He's sixteen. He knows more about alchemy than he does about his own feelings. He's just as scared as you are about the baby-"

"I'm not scared!" Envy retorted, quickly.

"Don't interrupt. You almost died that night and despite what you think, despite how nasty you act most of the time, we were concerned about you. Yes, we _were_," She added as the Sin snorted disparagingly. "All of us. Including Edward."

Envy looked away, but he was obviously still listening. Very obviously. They shared a moment of silence before the Shape shifter asked quietly:

"So you knew it was a Homunculus..."

"Pretty much as soon as I saw it. Though I've no idea how that would have happened."

"What did you do with it?"

"I put it back in the Gate."

"You... _what?"_Envy whipped his head up and stared at her, incredulously.

"I put it back where it belongs," Izumi reasoned, calmly. "It wasn't human, it didn't seem right to bury it as one."

Envy didn't reply for a short time, but when he did, his face had taken on the same pallor of the moon and his hands seemed to shake. His shortness of breath had returned and the sound of his rasping played on Izumi's nerves like the squeal of a butchery saw as it splintered through tough bone.

"Are you mad?" he barely whispered. "You don't send things back through the Gate, you never send them _back!_That's almost as bad as asking it for something! Didn't you learn when you created Wrath?"

Izumi flinched.

"It's not the same. Wrath... He was... The Homunculus _I_made was alive when I..." She stopped for a second. "Anyway, that Homunculus, _your_Homunculus was dead. It stopped moving shortly after it was born. It was going cold."

"I don't think that matters," Envy said. "The Gate... It's vindictive. It doesn't care." He shook his head. "You should have thrown it six feet deep. You should have left it in this world."

"It didn't _belong_ in this world." Izumi argued. "It was the Gate's creation and therefore the Gate's responsibility. That thing was dead. It had nothing to offer whatever lives behind the doors."

"Except more clay to model with," The Sin pinched his shoulder and winced a little. Izumi pushed her chair back and got to her feet.

"You can't be so sure about that." She said gently...

"Same goes for the Gate." Envy squeezed his shoulders up then craned his head to one side, rolling the joint around in its socket with a groan.

"What I'm sure about is that death is death. What more do you need? I wasn't making a transmutation, I wasn't _asking_the Gate for anything, I was simply returning what it was responsible for. And that thing had expired. Indefinitely. _Unlike_Wrath. Can the Gate use dead things? Do you know?"

"Probably." Envy wriggled again in his chair, squirming as though someone had thrown a weasel down his shirt; stopping randomly in odd yoga-esque positions as if trying to stretch the creases out of various muscle groups.

"Your back _does_hurt, doesn't it?"

"You're being far too liberal about this." He continued. "You thought I was worried before? I'm worried _now!_" Envy muttered as he squirmed. "And yes, alright? Yes, my back does hurt. My _everything_hurts and those little candy pills Warner gave me are doing bugger-all."

"Stand up."

Envy blinked, bewildered, as Izumi walked around the table and stood over him.

"What?"

The woman sighed and gripped his elbow.

"Just do it. You'll like this, I promise."

He pulled away at first, jumping like a startled possum on contact, but acceded regardless, meek curiosity only _threatening_the cat. She spun the chair he'd been sitting on so the seat it faced him, then motioned for him to sit down again. Envy stared back at her, blankly.

"Sit backwards on the chair," She instructed. "You know, straddle it. Rest your elbows on the back and lean forward onto them. And _relax_," she added as the Sin complied, albeit stiffly.

"What the hell are yo-uhnnn...?" Envy practically melted as Izumi's fingers went to work on the muscles that had been carrying the brunt of the baby weight and had, in turn, tightened to a likeness of steel cables. She clicked her tongue, annoyed at herself for having left the rest of the Sin's body so completely neglected whilst only caring for the part that held the child. Not a very responsible thing for a self-appointed midwife to do. The Shape shifter wouldn't have accepted any care of course, but she should have tried. By the size of the knots under his shoulder blades and the tension of the bands crossing his back, it was clear that he'd been suffering muscular pains for a long time but had been too arrogant to admit it.

_And__they__call__pride__a__sin,_She thought to herself as her fingers kneaded the hard clumps of muscle that lay bunched like land mines along Envy's spine. _It's__more__like__a__vice._

"Are you... really that worried?" Izumi asked as she worked, her fingers scrawling patterns and positions between Envy's prominent bones. "Homunculi get created through Human Transmutation, yes? Wrath only came out when he received Edward's arm and leg so-"

"Don't..." Envy cut in. "The excuses are bad enough. You made a mistake; you don't have to lie to me about having some kind of reason for it. Spontaneality is just a big word for humans being dumb."

Izumi nodded.

"But you're guilty of it yourself..."

"You're saying the Homunculus is going to be _my_sin? Equivalent trade et cetera?"

"That's a round-a-bout way of looking at it." She started on his neck, pinching the sparse flesh between her fingers as though rubbing butter into flour. "I'm saying we all make mistakes."

"Like Body Alchemy."

"Yes, like Body Alchemy. Only _you_were aware of what you were doing. Did you think the Gate might have shared some kind of repartee because you're a product of it yourself?"

"Can't remember," Envy lied again, astonished at how his ability to do so was gradually diminishing. As it was, the woman gave a huff of disbelief, but she was kind enough not to push the subject. He felt a dull pop as a few muscles gratefully loosened, releasing a bubble of lactic acid, and slipped back into place, and shifted a little in attempt to expose more of his neck for Izumi to rub.

The prescient part of his mind that had not been summoned into the fizzing jacuzzi of diversion caused by Izumi's fingertips gave a polite cough before informing him in a mousy, horn-rimmed pragmatic voice that he'd finally become what he'd scorned against for most of his unlike. Someone who had used the Gate to gain. Someone who had _sinned__ –_a _Sin_ who'd sinned, to even worse than the human's who'd curiously and/or frantically experimented: he'd known _exactly_what the consequences were in store for him. He hadn't been thinking. He'd been acting, but there'd been no plan or intelligence behind it.

_Stupid bastard._

Envy had visibly shuddered at the thought but quickly slammed the notion under a heavy foot of implied ignorance. Yes, he'd acted just like the human's he'd used to despise. Yes he'd done something unbelievably stupid. Yes, there would probably be repercussions that _somebody_would have to deal with – if not himself.

(_So__what?__So__fucking__what?)_

But what point was there in fretting about it? No one had scolded him for behavior, no one had mocked him. Izumi had been impressed by his skill and speedy learning of Alchemy, but that was about it. It seemed pointless to mope over his actions now. Especially if he _did_end up dying in childbirth. Wasted worry happened to be one of his newfound pet hates, though he wasn't doing very well in relinquishing it. Wasted _anything_had always been on his list of gripes, like Greed had hated to waste money – even though he no longer really had need of it. Like Hohenheim had hated to waste lives when he could simply bring them back again to use as his own.

_Is that what you thought when you leveled the city that Central now rests upon on like you were ploughing and tending a field to grow a better harvest?_

Envy yawned widely and realized he'd been sitting in an expectant silence as Izumi waited for him to answer something he hadn't heard the question to. She was gently thrumming the sides of her hands on his trapezius muscles now, as though executing some kind of martial arts move.

"You say something?" He asked sleepily, nuzzling into the crook of his elbow. Whether he heard the question again or not didn't really bother him, he only answered out of gratitude since, because of her, he was starting to drift off.

"I just said," Izumi's voice was low and quiet. "That our main concern now is for you and the baby, not for some event that may or may not happen. Remember, it's as much _our_ problem as it is yours. Don't let it concern you anymore."

_We won't leave you alone._

Envy let this bounce about in his ears for a few seconds, the supportive comment gently tiding over his confused and frazzled nerves like Novocain.

"...Don't understand," He muttered into the table. "How you humans... _YOU_even... Why would you put yourself through all this pain a-and stretching and _distortion_just to bear a child?"

"Because," Izumi smiled, smoothing a hand over his hair, surprised that he hadn't jumped at the sudden, intimate touch. "It's all worth it at the end."

A naughty part of her added: _It's__worth__it__at__the_beginning _as__well!_

But she stamped it out quickly.

Envy gave slight cough, tensing again at the baby fumbled about in his belly. But the pain didn't come. Instead the hands that were resting on his shoulders crept slowly, _kindly_around their girth to link over his collarbone. The Sin felt Izumi's body press up against his back as she leaned forward and over, resting her chin on his head in an awkward attempt at a hug.

This time, though, he did not startle as he had done with Lust, he simply let the woman embrace him. She was softer than the other Sin, warmer; her skin was slightly clammy with sweat but it felt good. Solid. _Real._They remained as they were awhile longer until the brightness of the moon dissipated and the light bleached more than brightened. Then, as the Shape shifter beneath her began to snore lightly, Izumi straightened and patted the side of his arm in order to wake him up enough to help him back to bed. As he curled up on the sheets in a moment of what Izumi took as complete trust, he looked up at her, mouth jerking a little as if trying to become a smile.

"Izumi?"

"Hmm?"

"...thanks."

Izumi gaped a second, then nodded.

"Don't mention it."

Edward, pants pooling unceremoniously around his ankles, scraped over a page of the stained, wrinkled magazine with his boot and tried to look, but _not_look at the consecutive picture-laden page with shameful, burning curiosity.

_(Sex.)_

Woman splayed their legs about the cheap, semi-glossed paper as the magazine itself splayed open on the floor. Smaller images of men and women in mid-coitus dotted between the larger pin ups, all wearing peculiar variations of the standard grimace expression and very little else. Those that _did_actually bother to add a piece of fabric to their birthday suits shouldn't have anyway – he was sure the handkerchief in his pocket would offer better coverage than the piece of fuchsia-pink anal floss one of the buxom blondes was pretending to wear. There were words, boxes of text dotted about the imagery as well. Some of which he'd attempted to decipher, but the magazine itself was so rotten and destroyed that the paragraphs (sparse as they were) made about as much sense as gobbledygook.

_(Sex.)_

He couldn't understand why someone would want to read such things; surely nobody could find this kind of gratuitous exploitation of flesh arousing? Especially not when reading it in the Central Railway Station's public toilets, but then again considering some of the 'after' shots, perhaps a toilet was the _best_place to indulge oneself.

_Birds__of__a__feather,_Edward thought acidly, spinning the roll of paper a little until he passed the scrunched length that had obviously been attacked by the frantic hands of whomever had been perusing the reading material. _Filth__belongs__with__filth._

With a disgusted sneer, he kicked the rag aside and stood up, retrieved his pants from the floor with a quick swipe then depressed the toilet flusher with his elbow. If being an adult meant having to like things such as pornography, Edward reasoned to himself, then he'd rather sit it out.

_(Sex.)_

Only...

_(Sex.)_

Only the word had been jack-in-the-boxing about Edward's mind the entire way to Central on some kind of deceitful spring. He'd tried to ignore it, but it wouldn't go away, instead stuck around like an adhesive stench, poking him every now and again and showing him postcards, Hughes style, of memories of some of the more confusing times he'd spent with Envy. He didn't remember much of their... _adventurous_engagement, especially not the part that happened _before_Envy pulled his horrid little switch, but he was sure the Sin did. After all, he'd taunted him about it often enough.

However, while he'd had trouble bringing back _some_parts, he'd had immense trouble in blocking out the _other_interesting occurrences that had happened. Things that had slipped out in conversation. Things that _happened_when he came near the Sin. Those weren't intentional, Edward was sure. But then why? Why was the Sin reacting like that? Because he... liked him?

_(Sex)_

Edward squinted his eyes shut tightly as he washed his hands, then bent over and splashed some water into his face. Liked? Was that the best way to describe someone who got... excited-

(_aroused_)

-when you...well... whatever he had done. Fallen on him. Cleaned his face. Yelled a bit. He'd been... against me... don't cats do that? Damnit Al, I'll never look at one of your strays in the same way again...)

He'd very obviously, though perhaps not as intentionally as it had seemed, revealed some kind of blue-light feelings for Ed. But although Edward's brain had registered and documented the sensation of Envy's smooth toes running up the backs of his legs, the reddening of his pale cheeks as he accidentally tripped over words he hadn't meant to let slip, the feel of his... Um...

_(Dick, cock, penis, phallus, wang, organ, shaft...)_

Um...

_(Johnson,__Willy,__Purple-headed__pussy-eater...__Come__on,__you__can__say__it...__You've_done _it__after__all...)_

...through his shorts... That was..._That_was...

Ed tossed his head back, showering the spotted, cracked mirror with a thick spray of water droplets and stared back as his ashen face, his eyes wide and bulging with embarrassment, cheeks already coated in a heavy blush. It was strange that, although his body had been christened into maturity already by Envy, there was still a kind of virginal chastity lock on his mind that refused to consider the events in a civilized manner. It was his own, young, nervous guilt that had stayed his hands when he innocently sought to question why parts of him sometimes reacted strangely to certain imagery or sensations. He wasn't the kind of boy who found out what masturbation was though experimentation: He'd actually had to look the word up in the dictionary when he came across it once and nearly fell out of his chair when he read the definition. Certainly, he'd had no interest, or even _time_for interest in the subject before, until Envy came and decided to bonk his brains out.

Edward batted at his sodden bangs in the mirror, trying to flatten his annoying cowlick down against the back of his head. He'd always reasoned that the little plume of blond hair would add to his height and make him appear taller, but the last time the military nurse had taken measurements, she'd drawn the pencil line against the wall by resting it on his crown and not from the pinnacle of his unique coif. Ed had been most put out, if not a little shamed that he'd honestly thought hair would make him higher. He really should just stick to adding thicker soles to his boots.

But Envy...

They'd had... _sex..._

Edward glanced about quickly; worried that someone might actually be listening in on his thoughts.

They'd had sex. _HHHHH_ _He'd_had sex. Admittedly it had been fairly _unconventional_ – not the kind that you'd boast to your bar mates about with enthused, overly enunciated slurring over a round of stale beer. But Edward's brain reasoned that since he didn't _have_bar mates, nor had he indulged in rounds of _anything_ – stale or no, the idiosyncrasy of the act wouldn't matter. It had been sex. Definitely sex. He'd _had__sex_.

Edward Elric is no longer a virgin.

He pondered this comment a moment, wondering if it were something he should write up like a certificate, slip it into a thin, plain frame and hang it on the wall with the rest of his achievements. It _seemed_fairly special, since so many adults were so absorbed by the subject, but he continued to find it fairly blasé, as though he felt alleviated to have the whole matter over and done with. Well, perhaps that's just because he'd had sex with _Envy_and not a beautiful, surgically enhanced woman with tracks of land large enough to strike fear into the best of brassiere-makers. Of course, he hadn't _known_of the prostitute's little gender-secret at the time, but then again, that was thanks to the _lemonade._

Edward sneered.

He'd had _sex_. Thanks to Envy, he had done the dirty deed. The horizontal tango. Created the two-backed chimera. He was no longer a virgin.

_(No, not a virgin, but a father.)_

The sneer vanished.

A Father. He was a _father_. A parent to a child made accidentally

_Like a Homunculus. We didn't get a choice in being born!_

inside a creature that was a human, but wasn't. Alive, but dead. And hated him - but was frighteningly attracted to him at the same time. _Frighteningly_. But had it really been that bad? Edward ran his tongue over his teeth, frowning at their stale, peach-fuzz feel. Was it so bad that Envy liked him? Was it so bad that he wanted... to stick around? And did he want to stick around because of the baby? Or because of him?

Had it really been that fair to just blow him off so rudely? Carelessly...

_(I don't care about him!)_

But he did, Edward _knew_that he did. Envy wouldn't be encompassing his mind if he didn't. He wouldn't have set Envy's kiss on mental replay if he didn't. He wouldn't remember the Sin's scent, the sensation of his skin or the colour of his blush if he didn't. Not to mention the sensation of _other_things he'd accidentally found out about. And as Edward stood pondering hopelessly in front of the mirror, something tugged at his trousers just below the rise of his knee.

The Fullmetal Alchemist let out a tinny yelp.

"Hey Mistah, mistah," The something squeaked. Edward looked down slowly and found he was addressing a small child who seemed to be of undistinguishable sex (save for the fact that he _must_have been a boy, being in the men's toilets) and consisted mostly of shaggy chestnut curls and faded blue dungarees.

"Um...Yes?" Edward replied, choking a little in order to retain at least a _trace_amount of modesty to his voice.

"Issat your picture book in 'dere?" The boy looked up at Edward through his thick fringe, suggesting an unintentional yet fantastically coincidental impersonation of an English sheepdog, and pointed at the cubicle the Alchemist had been occupying.

"Didja drop it?"

The blush returned with a vengeance and Edward practically raced over to the open cubicle, securing the profane object and balling it righteously in his fist.

"Uh, no. No," He said jovially with a forced grin that had some rather banana-like qualities to it. "_Noooo_. I think someone's just thrown it away... I guess I should get rid of it. People shouldn't litter, right?"

"Nope, 'dey shouldn't, Mistah."

"You... didn't _look_ at it, did you?"

"Nope Mistah, I fort it was yours."

Edward sagged with relief.

"Oh good." He said. "Well, I'll go throw it in the rubbish."

"'Dat's wee-sponsibble, Mistah," the kid beamed with a gappy smile. Edward noticed the missing baby teeth and grinned back. "You have a nice trip, 'kay?"

"Oh, no, I just got-" Edward went to correct him, but the child had already disappeared into the closet-like confines of another toilet. Edward stared blankly at the closed door in front of him, absently perusing a crude piece of graffiti that might have meant to resemble a bird with a very long beak and bulbous eyes, but since the scrawl beneath it read:

_Long live Seaman Stains!_

He knew it was otherwise.

_(Perhaps a woodpecker?)_

Dazedly, if not a little repulsed he backed away from the cubicle and left the Men's room, almost crashing into Al as he stepped out into the station foyer.

"Careful Nii-san!"

"Sorry Al," Ed grinned sheepishly. "Lost in thought, you know..."

"Mm," Al clutched Edward's suitcase in front of him. "Shall I get us a taxi to the Military buildings? There's been a summer storm and it's raining pretty hard outside."

"I guess so," Ed answered in a distant voice. He glanced over at the ticketing office, noting that the next train back to Dublith left in five minutes. The train's whistle, though it was _nothing_like as whistle as much as a low, reverberating bay, could be heard through the usual station humdrum and between the strains of milling passengers, he could see the brightly painted carriages sitting expectantly by the platform.

Five minutes.

"Nii-san?"

"Yeah?"

"I could just go to Central this time myself, if you like."

Edward blinked.

"Why do you say that?"

Al paused; the time, Ed considered, it took to let a small, knowing smile dawn on a face that had the ability. He cocked his head to one side with maddening childlike comprehension and offered the battered tote back to his brother, holding it by the constricting sides, handle-up.

"You talk in your sleep sometimes, Nii-san."

"What?"

"I'm sure Envy would like to know that you don't mind he stays."

Edward's jaw crashed against the gum-trodden, cigarette butt laden concrete floor with a metaphorical _shunk!_

"I d- I did _not_say that!" He cried.

"Not _exactly_that," Al admitted, his voice still harboring a playful tone. "But that's what you meant."

Edward _did_talk in his sleep but his mumbles generally consisted of random consonant groupings with lots of 'z's thrown in. Only occasionally did the added word or two slip though. In his fitful sleep on the train, however, he'd uttered a few _more_discernable words than usual. Words which, although Al had not been _surprised_to hear, he had not expected. Now the younger Elric was going to do all he could to make sure Edward took heed of them. And Alphonse firmly believed out of principle that families ought to remain together.

Edward's expression was dubious, rather akin to a mouse eyeing cheese beneath the guillotine-arm of a spring trap. He shifted on his feet a little, nibbling the inside of his cheek, golden eyes darting from the station clock to his suitcase.

The train whistle hooted again, ominously.

"You should tell him, Nii-san. There's two minutes left," Al prompted gently.

Ed threw his brother a cagey look, still chewing on his lip. His hands reached for the suitcase, drew back, then grabbed at it; his small figure pirouetting with decided haste to face the smoky platform. Steam issued from under the wheels of the engine, filling the air with a deafening, asthmatic hiss. Metal creaked. Ushers hurried the last of the passengers abroad, their white gloves flashing and signaling in the air. The smaller hand of the station clock climbed another black tic.

One minute.

Edward ran.

Apple pie.

It was the last recipe in the book and the only one he hadn't tried yet. He wasn't sure why, maybe he hadn't noticed it because every second page of Izumi's one-and-only cookbook tended to be stuck together by a collection of congealed, dried foodstuffs - none of which seemed to relate to the recipes on the page.

But apple pie, or _tarte__tatin_as the cookbook boastfully advertised was The Last One, and _he__hadn't__done__it._

Envy sniffed at the page again and peered through the kitchen window to the back of the Curtis' section. He hadn't noticed it before, but there it was, growing in a vacant lot that was separated from Izumi's yard by a tall, corrugated iron fence. An apple tree. Having very little horticultural knowledge at his disposal, he might have just dismissed it as an ordinary, nameless variety of the common forest example. But even from the distance of the kitchen he could see that in between the coverage of the leaves there were thick clusters of early season fruit decorating the branches. Birds darted here and there about the offerings, greedily foraging their share before anyone else.

Apples. Fresh, green, off-the-tree apples.

Envy's mouth watered. It wasn't that he cared so much for making the pie, he didn't like the sound of it himself, but he _did_like apples. So why not get a few for himself and some more to make the dessert for the rest of the house?

_Only_, he thought quickly. _Because__it's__the__last__recipe__that__I__haven't__done__yet.__Not__because__that__woman__said__at__some__time__that__she__liked__it.__Oh__no._

He looked back from the kitchen window into the house. It was strangely silent for early-morning; Izumi had taken a day trip to Rush Valley to see how Pinako and Winry were getting along with their inventions (they were all to come back later on, as Pinako had expressed interest in the progress of Envy's condition), Edward and Al were, obviously, absent and Shigu had his hands full with several large orders. Apparently it was the beginning of barbecue season and every man and his dog wanted prime-cuts steaks to slap on the grill for dinner. So Envy was pretty much by himself in the house, gazing inattentively at the sparkling particles of dust that hung in the stagnant kitchen air. The clock ticked with its mechanical pulse and the hallway creaked indignantly as if to fill the silence.

The Shape shifter's line of vision moved back to the window, zeroing in on the tree. He licked his lips, uncertainly. Leaving the house wasn't one of his preferred expeditions, he'd never even _dared_consider it before and Izumi _had_warned him to stay put in case anything happens (she'd handed him copies of Warner's personal number on at least four separate occasions and Envy knew it six ways backwards by now) but the tree _was_just across the yard. Not far at all. And he was feeling all right today, alot better than he had been, indefinitely. Perhaps it had something to do with the massage Izumi had given him in the early hours of the morning: because of that he'd managed to doze off for a good six hours of solid sleep, but for someone who'd felt as awful as he had the last couple of days, he found himself strangely clear-headed.

He should stay put, Envy debated as he gripped the door handle. He really _ought_ to listen to that woman, as her advice hadn't been that bad for most of it.

_But__then__again,_his conscience sighed, defeated as the Sin marching out into the sunlight. _When__does__he__listen__to_anyone?

Crossing the yard as briskly and causally as he could in order to attract the least attention, Envy stopped by the fence and gave the obstacle a sneer of displease. How the _hell_ was he supposed to haul his awkward and distorted figure over that? The fence was very tall; as it was, he had to stand on tiptoe to peer over it and there were no footholds or ladders to speak of. He _could_walk around the side, but the fence appeared to shield off the lot entirely and there was no open end. No gates either, not from what he could see. If he'd been in his old body, the one that could easily scale more than three times his height in a single leap, he'd have been just fine.

But then he wouldn't have been very interested in apple trees either.

Envy gave an impatient huff, slamming his palms against the metal ridges. How _annoying_, now he'd have to wait for someone to get back so he could rope them into getting the apples for him. He'd wanted to start straight away while his energy was up and his guts only ached a little – who knew what he'd be feeling like at the end of the day? Indeed, he was so vexed he _almost_ didn't notice when a section of the fence wobbled and shifted at his irritated volley, but when it did he grinned triumphantly.

So there _was_a gate.

It was crude, makeshift and stiff, hinges rusted by the weather. It was low enough to the earth that it grazed the grass with a dull, scraping sound, but gave way grudgingly when he put all of his weight against it, the dew that lingered on the ground in the shadows acting as a lubricant. Carefully, making sure there was enough room for him to fit through, Envy braced his back against the 'gate', climbed through the opening and padded over the chilly, wet grass to the base of the tree.

After almost half an hour of toil later, Envy found the fruit picking was much harder work than he'd estimated. The apples, though plentiful, were on the upper branches and he had to stand on the balls of his feet and reach up in order to get to them. As for the goods themselves - he was dismayed to find that most had already been attacked by birds while others had been devoured from the inside out by insect larvae. Several duds and four branch-flicks to the face later, Envy had a despairingly small pile of Granny Smiths at his feet and a pair of decidedly sore arms from all his stretching and straining to reach the fruit. His back was starting to hurt again as well. The ache crept up on him unexpectedly, and he had to stand still a moment, panting lightly as he waited for the crunching pain to dissolve.

Envy leaned forward and rested his forehead against the scabby bark of the tree, slowly gathering the energy to travel back to the house. For all the vitality he'd had this morning, it certainly burnt out quick. But just as the Sin had calmed enough to consider moving, a noise light behind him – a swish of long grass, a _footstep_ - caused his body to freeze up in alarm.

He gulped. If it was someone he didn't know... Someone who might... His condition... what could he do? Run? Nope, the notion was laughable. Fight? Possibly, but the effect would doubtlessly be about as successful as putting boxing gloves on a toddler. For all Envy's pride in his physical ability, he was, for once, completely and utterly helpless.

He should have listened to Izumi. _Why_hadn't he listened to Izumi? Someone tapped him on the shoulder and Envy flinched, his body instinctively tried to morph but shivered in frustration when he remembered he couldn't.

"Uh, don't worry," a familiar voice tentatively broke the silence. "It's just me."

Envy turned slowly and was decidedly flummoxed to find the unexpected, yet very welcoming figure of Edward standing in front of him. The Alchemist seemed a little breathless, as though he'd been running; his shirt was disheveled, hair all over the place and the bottoms of his slacks were criss-crossed in dark slashes from the wet grass.

"Where...?" Envy began, pushing his unruly fringe out of his face. "I thought you were going to stay in Central for a couple of days?"

"I was," Ed jostled his shoulders, remarkably cool in light of his behavior last time Envy had seen him. "But I changed my mind."

_Maybe I changed my mind._

"What about your Colonel?" Envy frowned. "He wanted you to report in specially, didn't he?"

"Al's still there, he can take care of things."

Edward moved forward a little as he said this and as result, Envy unconsciously backed up.

"So why... _did_you come back?" He was almost afraid to ask it, but there couldn't have been any other logical reason for Ed's swift return. _And_ he'd left Al behind - Edward _never_left Al behind. The blond's face glowed, nurturing a slow, gentle smile, and he stepped closer again, smushing a worm-riddled, rotting apple beneath his boot. Envy pressed himself against the tree trunk, flattening his spine up against the uneven bark. He didn't know why he was suddenly so nervous at Edward's advance, but it seemed so out of character, he couldn't help himself. Well, hopefully not _out__of__character_as such, but he did seem strangely surreal. Like a vision or a substantial figment of the Sin's overwrought imagination...

_(Oh God, please let him be real...)_

Envy licked his bottom lip hastily and flinched a little as Edward's hands reached out, carefully resting on the rise of his protruding belly, smoothing over the bulge.

"Not long now, is it?" He asked softly, slipping his fingers through the spaces between the buttons of Envy's shirt, completely oblivious to the Sin's jitteriness. The feel ofEd's rough, callused fingertips against the sensitive skin of his stomach was most distracting and Envy looked down trying hard not to turn pink or wet himself with nerves.

"Um... That ma- uh, Warner said it could be anytime within the next three weeks."

"Is that so?" Edward leaned over again, grazing the side of his smooth cheek against Envy's jaw. The Sin could have _sworn_he heard him almost purring. Perhaps someone had slipped something in his drink on the train?

"But I..." Envy continued in a shaking voice. "I have to be careful and...and um let him know about the contradictions...or whatever. The things women usually get when the buh-" Edward's face was right by his ear, his breath tickling and that completely robbed Envy of any coherent thought. "Ed..."

"We'll look after you," The Alchemist replied, pressing his body close to the Sin. One arm, the foreign one, snaked around to caress his shoulder blades while the other still sat on the curve of his belly. "_I'll_look after you. You know how I never answered you when you asked me what would happen if you wanted to stay once the baby was born? Well, I didn't really know what to say then. I had no idea you... liked me... like you do. But I did some thinking on the train, Envy."

The Sin watched as Edward moved his face so he was looking him straight in the eye. And said eyes sparkled. They _flamed_with untended desire.

Need? Realization?

Envy felt a cold ribbon trail down the back of his neck as he strained to keep his mouth clamped shut and his lips from wobbling. His palms gasped with sweat.

_(If__I__'wake__up'__now,__I'm__going__to__be_so _pissed__off...)_

"I did some thinking," Ed repeated. "And I realized that I wouldn't mind if you stayed. Actually, I want you to stay. I _do_. You have feelings for me, Envy. I understand that now. And came back because I had to tell you that I... feel... the same."

With that, Edward descended hungrily on Envy's mouth; claiming him in a driving embrace fuelled by months of suppressed craving and overwhelming need. Envy accepted, parting his lips and inviting Edward's amateurish, roving tongue to explore. The Sin was mildly surprised; Edward was a much better kisser than he'd imagined: his technique reeked of infectious passionate urgency, but he was skilled enough not to go overboard and bite, choke or hurt. Their mouths engaged, lips locked, Edward slipped his hand away from Envy's stomach and let it trail down to his groin where he teasingly began to massage in slow, lazy circles.

That was... unexpected. Envy's muscles flipped and jumped as though electrocuted at the touch, but his deceitful libido forced him into enjoying it and a moan rumbled low in the Shape shifter's throat, muffled by Edward's mouth over his. He lifted his hands; eagerly tangling them in the other boy's loose, silky braid.

He'd wanted to do that for _ages_.

Edward's hand fumbled clumsily into Envy's shorts and as their kiss surfaced from the submerged depths of infatuation and became lighter, shallow and affectionate, Envy let out a gasp. Finally Ed was touching him as he'd wanted to be touched, returning the attraction he'd feared had been angrily cast aside in disgust. At first the Sin figured submitting to his inclinations would just help him get over them, as if kissing Edward once was enough to drive the Alchemist's prescence from his mind. Now he found he didn't _want_it to go. He couldn't let it go. Edward was someone he wanted to acknowledge him, someone he _wanted_to be near. No matter who he was or who he _had_been, if a life _was_waiting for him past the birth of his child, then he wanted the Alchemist in it.

Like the train waits to take the present to the future. Envy could feel the rhythm start to build, heard the _chug_ sound on his panting breaths and felt the furnace burn in his chest and send glittering sparks through his ecstasy-stunned nerves. His fingers flexed in the straw-colored locks, and he moaned excitedly. But although he was enjoying himself, _really_enjoying himself, the twinge in his back had not dissolved – instead it had grown, strengthened and was not likely to go away anytime soon. Pain nagged, interrupting Envy's coasting bliss and he jerked a little.

"E-ed..."

"Mm?" Edward turned his head a little, shifting sides but still kissing.

"I can't-"

"What's wrong?" The question was breathed between nuzzles that were turning hasty and impetuous, and it seemed to lack the concern Envy thought would be apparent.

"I...It hurts... I've got-"

"Aww," Ed chided playfully, suddenly gripping Envy's erection inside his shorts and squeezing feverishly tight. "What's wrong, Envy? Don't you like it?"

_Don't you like it?_

Envy's breath caught in his throat. There was just something terribly wrong about that statement. Not only the words themselves, which conjured a kind of festering _de__ja__vous_ in Envy's mind - he knew he'd heard them before somewhere - but also in the way Edward said them. He enunciated, as if piecing the words on his tongue and the words themselves were hollow and uncaring... nearly mocking. Envy tried to back up again, but the tree blocked his retreat and Ed's hand on his back had begun pressing him forward, steel fingers digging ruthlessly into bone. He squeezed eyes shut, biting back a yelp as the pain razored through his pelvis.

"S-stop, I've got-" Envy began to protest, but halted abruptly as Edward's form seemed to _change_around him. The long, smooth tendrils of his hair disappeared and suddenly he had grown: become wider, taller and more muscular. The hand that fondled in Envy's pants slunk away, then smacked against the Sin's fragile shoulders, digging into the thin flesh with harsh, pointed claws. The mouth that was pressed against his withdrew, but before it did Envy froze as his probing tongue touched an unlikely set of serrated teeth. The lips moved and the Edward impersonator muttered jovially:

"Come on, what's up? Don't you want me to fuck you, _bakemono-san?"_

_Bakemono?_

_(Little monster, I think I'll call you that from now on...)_

The air popped and sizzled as Envy's brain tried desperately to comprehend the actuality of hearing the voice of someone he'd thought... no... _known_to be dead for quite some time.

_Dead._Deceased. Kaput. Very, very _not_alive.

Only _actuality_didn't seem to want to play fair and Envy let out a low howl of anguished frustration when his eyes flicked open and he found himself subject to the bespectacled, _leering_mug of Greed.

_When you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you._

_Friedrich Nietzsche_


	13. Monsters

**Dark Humor.**

_Chapter 13: Monsters._

_Bakemono..._

_The word was like a recollective sledgehammer, crashing against Envy's brain as hard as Greed's fist did the back of his head. He cried out as white spots leapt in front of his eyes and his vision charred around the edges as though burnt. Then a blackness spread over his senses, rendering him blind, deaf and finally, motionless. He was dimly aware of gravity shifting as his body was slung with rucksack carelessness over the other Sin's shoulder and the sound of a low, gurgling chuckle tickled the numbing cavity of his ears as Greed turned and began walking away from the apple tree, the house and the help Envy had finally swallowed his pride to trust._

There was a foot, but that came much later.

A grin was present at some point as well, but that appeared subsequently _after_ Envy's particularly abused body had both consciousness and mobility under control. At_this_ very moment he was nothing more than a thin pile of mumbling shivers propped haphazardly against a wall that trembled and jerked every so often as his brain tried hopelessly to hotwire the rest of him into sentient animation.

And, asawareness finally lumbered over his form, the first thing Envy encountered while he floundered blearily in an addled, half-switched-on state; the very_initial_ sensation that greeted his waking body like the alarm clock from hell, was the pain.

_(Uhhhn!)_

The pain came in before anything else and stung like an acid tide of two separate, nerve-pinching waves. The first exploded within his skull, slinging out buds of discomfort that bulged and divided and grew – almost a bodily imitation of the colourful beads within a kaleidoscope. A slight whine crackled in Envy's throat and he clumped his brows together, trying to squeeze the soreness out between them as he rocked his head slowly from side to side

Only the pain did not leave. Instead it doubled, swelled, hammered nails into his spine and sand-blasted his skull. Sprouted legs and danced about his body like the Devil's jester, hells bells jingling high pitched screams in his ears. Then, out of pure sadism, the pain took a trip down to his lower belly and woke up its cousin, who in turn pulled out a hacksaw and continued it's remodelling of his hips. Some muscles he didn't know much about quivered perniciously for a few seconds, then stopped.

Envy groaned again, louder this time and opened his eyes, letting his vision adjust to the dim light of... where ever he was. Inside, by the looks of things. A house. Stone floor. Cloth on plain, nondescript walls... tapestries? Envy squinted a little and flinched as his temples protested against it. It seemed a little strange for anyone around humble, conventional Dublith to be exhibiting such a grandiose standard of interior decorating, but the hangings that embellished the tall, plain facets of the room in sporadic rectangles of colour were the quiet exemplar of antique fragility and absurd wealth. They were very beautiful. Ornate. Expensive.

And _familiar..._

Blinking groggily a few times, Envy squinted again, straining to read the gilded, cursive script that danced in neat little stanzas upon the weave. He could have _sworn_he'd seen the images before, but the mental link that connected the visual stimuli to his punch-drunk receptors had not, as of yet, clicked back into place. He _had_seen them - he knew it. Perhaps not recently. Maybe not even this_century_ – they were certainly old enough – but he had. He remembered trying to read something very similar a long, long time ago.

_(But__they__weren't__English...__She__said__I'd__never__be__able__to__read__them__because__I__had__enough__trouble__with__my__own__language...__And__then_he _laughed...__and__he...__he...__what?)_

Uttering a few throwaway curses, the Sin squinted and strained to force a recollection, whimpering as the intensity of his concentration seemed to twist a muscle in his mind. First there had been the pain. Next came a sense of déjà vu – the favourite, or perhaps most persistent of his tag-a-long vibes.

But after a few tense seconds of grunting effort,he had to give up and sighed, defeated. The stress was too much for his brain which was still reeling from the blow that had knocked him for six and his head felt as though it had swollen up and was forcing the bones of his skull apart. Envy leaned over a little, wincing as the baby squirmed in his ballooned stomach and made to lift a hand in order to rub the top of his belly, an action he found often tended to soothe the child.

And quickly found he could not.

His arms were stuck by his sides, elbows digging into his ribsand wrists crossed behind his back,bound bya length of thin, waxed rope that cut in hard – though he hadn't noticed its bite at first over the pain in his head and the spasms in his belly. He rolled his shoulders experimentally and groaned.

_(..'the hell?)_

So... _What_had happened? Why was he restrained? He'd been knocked unconscious, so much was certain but… Envy scrunched his face up as he remembered the events beneath the apple tree. It hadn't been Ed. The Alchemist hadn't come back for him. But, instead it had been... it had...

_(... oh hell...)_

It had been Greed... _Greed._ Of all the people... Of all the _things_ that could have come back to haunt him at this tentative and embarrassing time, it had to be _Greed_. Even if it was impossible. Even if Envy had been assured of his destruction. He was back.

He was _back._

_(or at least, something that looks like him is back...)_

The inflection scuttled with spidery legs down his vertebrae as he realized the blaringly obvious cause of Greed's recurrence and one by one the hairs on the back of his neck stiffened to nervous attention.

The Homunculus. The Gate. The trade.

_(Equivalent fucking trade? More like equivocal. You don't get what you pay for, you take what you're given. And whether you want it or not...)_

But still... Greed... How could _that_ be? Though the inner statement swung heavily towards the rhetorical, Envy's shaken senses chunderedout various explanations in response, most of them constituting the point that Greed was a _particularly_ annoying bastard – something of a zit that, even though you never picked it, it didn't go away. Envy wouldn't have been so surprised had a new Sin simply emerged and _consecutively_ took the name of Greed, but this one knew the bastard's form. It _knew_ him. And it knew Envy. It had to be Greed. But that wasn't possible... was it? You could come out once... but a second time?

"Kept me waiting long enough. I don't have the most accommodating attention span, you know."

Envy jumped a mile as the voice shattered the pounding silence of the dull room-

_(was that the room pounding? Or was it my head?)_

like the ring of a gunshot. He snapped his head around toward the direction the noise had come from and found himself nearly falling into the wide, toothy grin of his captor.

"And how are we feeling, _Bakemono-san?_ Wee bit of a headache, hmmm?" Greed smirked again. And smirked. And _smirked._

Though he'd been subject to a rainbow of different expressions in his time, there was only one person Envy had ever known whose annoying facial tick of a smile _really_ got up his nose. Greed never grinned out of pleasure, he'd set the expression aside for sarcasm, malice and sometimes even anger. The angry version you really had to watch most of all – the teeth that were bared by the misleadingly curled lips generally tended to latch on to something you really didn't want them to if he became irritated enough.

But Envy had hated Greed's grin not because he was afraid of being bitten but because it also shone with a secretive hint of insight, as if Greed was trying to prove, by a mere gesture, that he was indeed a far superior being to his older brother. It was the grin of the veteran, the grin of one who'd seen the world in all its guises and not just from under the protective mantle of childhood. It was the grin that knew more than you did.

It said: _'Nyah,__nyah,__nyah'._

Envy stared at the smarmy expression for a few lengthy seconds of mute study, then spat into it, scowling. He was rewarded at once by a stinging slap across his cheekbone, his left eye filling with tears at the abrasion.

"Bastard!"

"Don't spit at me then," Greed replied calmly, taking a clump of Envy's hair to wipe the spurt frothy saliva from his upper lip. "That's just babyish."

Envy kicked him hard in the chest, scrubbing at his throbbing cheek with the nub of his shoulder. His face sneered in barely concealed rage and disgust, eyes flashing darkly. Greed wobbled a little, but did not move, only continued smirking at Envy's contempt, the bluish shadows about the cold room creating a strange and eerie terrain to his face.

"_Fuck__you_, Greed!"

"Will you ever grow up?"

"What the hell are you doing back?"

"Questions, questions. Too many questions, but I knew there would be. Try connecting your brain to your mouth for once, stupid!"

"Stupid? _Stupid!_ Kidnapping someone is stupid, asshole!"

"Really? I thought it was planned out pretty well..."

"Using your powers... my powers... to make me think... Tricking me into..." Envy's protest petered out prematurely as his conscience shook a taunting finger.

_Wasn't that exactly what you used to do?_

"Yeah, go on," Greed cut in, smoothly; a razorblade through soft flesh. "Tell me all about using your little shape shifting shtick. Was it realistic enough? Did you really think I was that blond bimbo?"

"How the _hell_did you do that?" Envy chose to ignore the scathing comment toward Edward. Even though he'd very clearly presented his feelings to Greed, if he played it down now the other Homunculus might forget. He couldn't let him use the Alchemist's form as a weapon again; the result was far too effective. Nor did he want Edward to be used as blackmail. That would just be the end of _everything_. "How did you get back? You were dead, it doesn't make sense..."

"Now, now," Greed chided playfully. "Who said I'm going to let you in on all my secrets?"

"Tell me!"

"I don't think," the second Shape shifter rubbed the back of his neck briskly, "...you're _really_ in the position to be making demands like that."

Envy seethed quietly, gritting his teeth. Then he snorted a gush of hundred-year-old disdain.

"Come on, I know you. You're dying to blab, you always had to show off. How did you get back? And with _my_ powers, nonetheless?"

Greed sighed, theatrically.

"You don't really put your grey matter to work much, do you?" he said, rapping his knuckles on Envy's forehead. "Didn't you see me when I waved to you all those months ago?"

"Waved?" Envy was mystified.

"At the Gate." The smile just _refused_ to cease, seemingly amplifying Greed's condescending tone. "When you were trying to swap _this-"_ He poked a finger in Envy's stomach. " –for your old self. Bet you were really pissed when you didn't get what you wanted. Lucky for me I did. First dibs, in fact."

"What are you trying to say?" Envy shivered, suddenly cold with foreboding. So it was true. "You... you have my Homunculus... It was my...me... _I...__brought__you__back?"_

"No, I'm saying I clicked my heels and my magic red stones carried me home," Greed rolled his eyes. "I guess you didn't see me then. And to think I was the one who held you still and took the strength from your Homunculus form while the Gate forced the soul in your body to live."

He muttered the last part more to himself than to his prisoner and Envy had to crane forward a little in order to hear. The Gate..._forced?_

"It did _what?"_

"Now I _thought,"_ Greed continued, scratching his chin with a blunt, bitten fingernail. "That I'd get your Homunculus then and there, but as it seemed, the thing needed time to collect itself in your body before it could exit."

"Wait, no!" Envy shook his head impatiently. "What did you say the Gate did? What soul?"

"How did it get out your body, _kuso__ani?"_ The new Shape shifter purred, leaning forward over Envy's knees, completely absorbed in his own questioning to bother with his brother's. "It kinda looked a bit like a baby... did you squeeze it out these cute little hips?" Greed traced a line down Envy's thigh, enjoying the way the pale flesh quivered at the trail of his touch. "Did our Dark Father leave you with some girly bits down here, _hmm?"_

"Fuck off!" Envy spat, kicking out again, his voice carrying every bit of loathing he could muster from his still-aching body. "What the fuck would that matter to you?"

"Oh it's just a question of whether I have to turn you over or not," Greed stated, offhand, casually dodging the blows as he persisted with his stroking.

"You... You... B-but..." Envy looked horrified. "You _what?"_

Greed did not reply, instead he chuckled lightly as he ran his hands up and down Envy's parted legs, relishing every second of the other Sin's embarrassment. After a tense, frozen moment, Envy's temper caught up with his surprise and easily surpassed his disconcertment. The older Sin thrashed and kicked out angrily, yelling barely comprehensible obscenities as he struggled and hissed like a caged wildcat.

"Prick! Get the _fuck_ off me! _Get__off!"_

His blows landed dead centre in the grinning mug, yet it barely shifted nor gave any impression of being damaged. Greed quickly caught one of Envy's bare feet and kissed it maddeningly, running his tongue along the arch. The captive Sin shuddered at the touch and tried to wrench his foot out of Greed's cement grip.

"Don't touch me like that." He barked, eyes narrowing. "Don't _ever_ touch me!"

The Homunculus paused a moment, then licked his drying teeth and effortlessly morphed into a precise replica of Edward, leaning over Envy's groin with a strange, wicked glint dancing in his replicate golden eyes.

"Don't touch you? But what if I were like _this?"_ He let the corner of his mouth hitch in a very un-Ed-like smirk. "You certainly let me touch you _before_, didn't you?

Envy bit his lip and shook his head, angrily.

"I didn't know… I thought... No! I mean... I don't even like _him_that way!"

"Oh _sure,"_the Elric parody squeezed Envy's thighs, pressing into the sparse flesh. "Like you weren't practically begging me for it, raping me with your tongue back there. _Oh__Envy!"_it cried in mock falsetto, batting its golden eyelashes as it clasped its hands to its heart. "_Oh,__Ed!_You may not _like_him as such, but you'll certainly go fishing in his pants again, won't you!"

"No!"

"But then again, you were _really_desperate-sounding. Aww, did big brother Envy fall in _wub__wif__me?_ I'm flattered, but I-"

"I am not! I _did__not!"_

"-but I _really_wouldn't know what to do with this..." Edward's doppelganger pulled forward the waistband of his pants and inspected his crotch critically. One golden eyebrow twitched. "Although I must say, I can't see why _not..._Honestly, they call _us_monsters..."

Envy stopped ranting a moment to blush a very vivid fuchsia. Greed took advantage of the eye in the expletive tornado and leaned over to stroke Envy's cheek with the backs of his borrowed fingernails.

"Is _this_why you wanted to fuck me?"

"Shut up, shut _up!"_Envy gasped, jerking his face away in vexed mortification. "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm _greedy_, not to point out the obvious," the uneven little shoulders shrugged and the fake Edward cocked his head to one side. "I take what I want. And right now, I want _you._You keep running about in that cute little form of yours and you're bound to get it dirty. Even if it's not that _little_ anymore..."

At the last comment, Greed rubbed his hand over Envy's bulging middle and on instinct the other Sin jerked backwards as far as he could against the cool wall behind him.

"I-I'm nothing like I was..." Envy gulped, suddenly fearful as his nerves rattled alongside his anger.

"I can see that."

"No, I mean... I'm not, you know…not...

_(strong, angry, an even match)_

"...a Homunculus anymore. Why would you want me now? And like _this?"_

"Because," Greed morphed back to himself, propping one elbow conversationally on Envy's knee. "I hate you. I really, _really_hate you."

"Yeah, well I hate _you_. So?"

"So? _So?"_Greed sniffed. "You wanna know how I got out of the Gate? I never stopped hating you. Not once. Wrath has a good thing going for him, you know, cos when I _didn't_stop thinking about how much I despised you I learned something _very_interesting about the Gate. The Gate, and the Great Joke. And because of that I realized I could get _back_at you – you and that filthy whore you called a mother."

"Wha- what joke?" Envy asked reluctantly, feeling the dread bleed up though his form with the coldness from the stone floor.

"Oh, the single most amusing thing I've ever encountered in my entire two hundred and something years!" Greed cackled, the sound of it like molten, bubbling steel. "The _real_joke behind immortality. The fact that, we're immortal forever... Did you know that?"

"Immortal _forever?"_Envy snorted. "A little verbose, Greed , even for you..."

"Idiot! I mean _we__don't__die,"_Greed snapped. "We _never_ die. The Gate? That's our heaven. That's our Hell. That's our _everything._We're not humans, we don't have a soul to travel to another existence – we didn't get that stamp on our passport. But you know what? If we really want to. If we _really_get strong enough, we can open the doors from the other side."

"You're making it up!"

"Why would I? You've got the truth in front of you..."

"N-no!" Envy shook his head frantically, his brackish bangs a dark blur. "Ed didn't kill you properly... Dante was lying..."

"Dante is an idiot."

"Fuck off!"

"Oh come _on!_How much do you think she _really_knows? How much _didn't_she tell you? She told _me_a lot, but that's 'cause I could take it. _You_on the other hand... You were always a loose cannon. With a short fuse."

"We don't... we don't _disappear?"_

Goose pimples trickled over Envy's blue-tinged flesh as he shivered. Dante had never _said_that the Homunculus could _die_as such, only that they disappeared. Envy had taken it to be synonymous, but it seemed he was incorrect in his assumption. So, they_could_come back. Was that what the Old Lust had been talking about in his dream? Had Dante always known that they'd never _really_die – that they lived on as some kind of synthetic mould greasing up the portal to hell? His breathing quickened and stalled as pain stung again in his abdomen. For a moment his attention was diverted from Greed's algorithm to the discomfort that tugged at the bottom of his stomach again in attempt to be noticed.

_(What the hell?)_

"... And because I despise you so much." Greed continued, lost in his soliloquy. "Because I had something to aim toward, I pushed the others away. Stole their parts, gathered more, made it so I too would be strong enough to escape. And then you came along; you and your pathetic little snivelling and I realized that _you_were going to be the one to free me. I couldn't believe it at first, how you'd been able to carry off Human Transmutation – we aren't supposed to be able to do that. Yet there you were, heavy with a life you didn't want and a chance I _knew_ was devised for me to take. And so I did."

"You didn't have any of the stones," Envy stuttered, his tongue feeling oddly numb. "How could you have just been able to use my powers if you didn't have the stones? We're pretty much nothing without them. How were you able to take a form?"

"Look," Greed snorted, grabbing a fistful of Envy's hair and yanking it hard. "There's _got_to be a brain somewhere under this mouldy haystack, fucking _use_ it will you? Homunculi, when sent back through the Gate _complete_with stones – and you still had some left in you – basically provide whatever picks it up with enough strength to correctly use its given powers."

"No!" Envy cried, wrenching his head away despite the fact that Greed was still latched onto his scalp. "No! The Homunculus that I gave bir... that I...That _came__out__of__me..._ It was dead! Izumi said it had died. It was cold! It wasn't breathing!"

"Since when were we warm?" Greed asked, twisting his fingers around in the clump of brackish roots. "Since when did we breathe?" He laughed a little, coldly. "You've forgotten what it's like to be one of us. Ever since this..."

Greed pressed his hand to Envy's stomach and pushed in hard. Envy let out a choked whimper of pain and swallowed forcibly as he felt the baby retaliate inside him, kicking frantically as its claustrophobic world took a neat dent.

"Bastard," he panted through clenched teeth as the child settled, unhurt. "Leave it alone, it's just a baby."

"Oh no," Greed shook his head, tracing the curve of buttons. "No, no, _no._You can't throw me off so easily. It's _not_ justa baby. Not just a baby at all. It's _your_baby. You and that pissface Alchemist. You think I don't know how much this thing is worth?"

The older Sin shrugged and looked away.

"Not worth anything..." he muttered stubbornly. "It's... not his. Just, stupid human garbage."

"Yeah right. And I'm the Empress of Xing. You were looking at him like he was the best thing since Automail. There was need in your eyes, I saw it. You're really in love with him or..." Greed shrugged a little. "Or in _lust_at least. I guess you'd know more about that, since you were so _close_to our lovely sister."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh nothing," Greed looked innocently at the ceiling, tapping his lips. "But still, you can't lie about your fuck-buddy. That human quack of yours? Had a nice little book _all_about you... including the identity of you brat's father."

"Y-you spied on Warner?" Envy paled slightly.

"Been feeling a bit peaky lately, blossom? Had a bit of a blackout incident the other week?"

"Fuck off," the other Sin spat, his annoyance at being caught bouncing ahead of the other emotions yo-yoing in his mind. "Alright, fine. So I fucked the chibi-"

"Other way around, I'd say..."

"-whatever! So it's the Elric's kid. Who cares?"

"Well, maybe _you_don't,although I doubt that," Greed replied. "But I'm sure your Mum does. That meddling old crone will have a hand in it somewhere... It's not viable for her to overlook something as huge as this – pun intended, porky."

"Dante is _not_my mother!" Envy growled. "And she doesn't care about the kid, it's useless! She sent me away!"

"If she _did_send you away, it would have been for your own benefit. Otherwise she wouldn't have let you four footsteps outta her sight."

"No, _idiot,_ she got rid of me! End of story! She was... embarrassed..." Envy closed his eyes – he really hadn't wanted to bring his folly into it, but it was a chance in any.

"Ho... is that so?" Greed's eyes narrowed in interest, though Envy knew he was miles away from shouting 'bingo!' "_That_wasn't in the book... What _did_you do exactly?"

"I... made a mistake... Played a prank. I was bored and thought I'd get my licks in on the shortass since Dante wasn't letting us kill him."

"So you let the chibi fuck you?" A grunt followed the statement.

"I _seduced_him." Envy flicked his eyes open again and glared. "Used a woman's form and drugged him... Tried to get it all nice and consensual... Then I got him upstairs and... uh... yeah. 'Popped the banana' as you used to say. Wasn't much fun though, so I... uh... turned into someone else just after he finished to shock him..."

"It's 'popped the cherry', moron! And who'd you morph to?" Greed's eyes were glued to his face, glittering with cold amusement. "_Yourself?_Or... that new Lust maybe... She's pretty hot... Or-"

"His mother," Envy admitted quietly, his stomach lurching at the thought. It had seemed so funny before, a really great gag. Now... what he'd done, despite the fact that it had gotten him into such a mess, it also seemed so... _sick._

_(And to think, I was only supposed to get his watch...)_

Envy took a deep breath. "I thought... I thought that would really piss him off."

"But instead it ended up taking the piss outta _you._You stupid shit!" Greed cackled loudly, displaying a full set of sharp, jagged teeth.

"Shut up," Envy grumbled. There was only so much crap he could after nearly nine months of lugging a biological bowling ball about in his belly and though the thought of his imbecilic mistake never really lost its sting, he wasn't about to show Greed how truly mortified he was. "When Dante found out she got mad. Livid. Said I was failing her as a soldier and making her a laughing stock. Banished me."

"And so you went out on the streets all by your lonesome and coincidentally got picked up by our young Alchemist – who had by that time forgiven you, 'cause he's such a _goody-good_and all..."

"S-something like that," Envy nodded, looking away. Inside his head though, he was taking a good slug at his deception abilities, those of which had wilted rather spectacularly in the past few months. He couldn't believe it, he was a _much_better liar than that! Treachery was his middle name, his way of life, his _nature_. He couldn't have... gotten soft mentally as _well_as physically! Perhaps, since it had been easy enough around the Curtis' and the Elrics' to put on a type of pride-saving brave face, he's simply gotten out of practice. However, with Greed as his audience, someone who'd been around as he'd been learning and perfecting his trickery skills, half-assed tall tales weren't going to get him anywhere.

_(Bastard...__Am__I_that _easy__to__read__now?)_

And he knew, at this moment he couldn't do better. The pain hadn't subsided yet and was doing a good job at diverting his concentration. He was beginning to feel as though someone had poured concrete through his guts and left it to slowly set, the hardening powdered stone pushing against his hips as it expanded. Suddenly he felt sick, queasy. The sensation was nothing short of disgusting and he shifted uncomfortably, watching with weary dismay as Greed's upper lip curled.

"And you're supposed to be the Master of _Lies._What happened? Lose your license?" He smirked. "That one of the _worst_attempts at fibbing that I've _ever_heard from you! I doubt it would have been able to fool Gluttony."

"It's true," Envy protested weakly. "What's the point in lying to _you?_Wasting my talents on a crap audience, that! I don't care what the fuck you think!"

"Oh stop fooling yourself. I know your Mum a lot better than you think I do. Probably better than _you_do actually, after all, I _was_married to her for awhile. You get to know a lot about people after you've _fucked_ them a few times. I guess you feel the same about wee Elric, yes?"

Envy glared silently.

"Now Dante," Greed smiled in reflection. "_She_was a good liar. The pinnacle of con-artists. Took on the role of poor little rich girl quite nicely when she stole the body of Youswell's wealthiest and easiest twat, then staged her entire family's death – leaving her with Daddy's chequebook and several active pots of gold in the mines. Guessing you'd remember that... "

The older Sin continued to glower at his brother, though a coldness channelled throughout his veins. He _did_remember that, even though he'd barely been able to object in the state he was in back then…he'd barely been able to do _anything__ –_ not with his bones meshed together like wax. Dante had taken on a new husband. She'd... _loved_someone else other than his father. The thought of that had twisted his heart in his chest, or wherever it had been at the time. Despite the scale on which he hated Hohenheim, Danteswitched lovers without a thought, showered her affection on someone who wasn't _him!_It hadn't been _fair!_What about her son?

_(But I'm not her son anymore. Her son died. I'm... )_

"Oh yeah, she really had a loose pair of flaps on her... and I'm not talking about her mouth," Greed laughed softly, realizing he was probably the only one to get the joke. "Hell no. _Those_lips were about as tight as the hinges on her purse. Mind you, I only found _that_out _after_I'd signed into the glory box. Which wasn't as glorified as it was cracked up to be anyway – fools gold and all." Greed flicked his eyes back to Envy. "And I found out the _rest_when I threatened to leave her for the pretty piece of fluff up in Old Central. All about you, Gluttony and Lust in Dublith. All about her practical magic and of course- " Greed rubbed a hand across his forehead. "_All_about a certain Mr. Hohenheim Elric. World's biggest prat. Can't blame him for leaving though..."

"Shut up!"

Greed threw him a dark scowl, bitter resentment of a different fountain trickling over his face.

"You're _still_sore about him? Face it, he was an arsehole. Whoop de frickin' doo, so fucking what?" The Homunculus looked like he wanted to spit. "Couldn't get anything out of you 'cause you went and _died,_couldn't get anything _else_out of your Mum 'cause she ended up a barren old hag so he cut his losses. Or should I say, _losers._"

"You _arsehole!"_

"I never heard the last of him," Greed snickered as Envy smouldered in his seat. "It was always 'Hohenheim did this' or "Hohenheim did that...'" He shook his head, his sing-song voice imitating Dante's. "Really, she should have just offed _him_and tied a leash around _his_balls, not mine since she was so in _love_-"

"Shut up, shut _up"_Envy cried, kicking out at the leering face before him. "Dante is _not_my mother! And I couldn't give a shit-eating rat's ass about that bastard! I hate him out of _choice,_I'm not _sore_about anything!"

"No, you hate him 'cause he _left__you__all__alone."_Greed chuckled. "Ain't that right, sweetheart? Daddy up and left. Daddy didn't care about _you!"_

_"That__arsehole__is_not _my__father!"_

"That a fact?" If sharks had voices, alien and dark and crouching, they would have sounded like Greed did at that moment. And if Envy knew about the anatomy of a shark's jaw, he would have made the analogy that, as the Great White regenerates his teeth by growing new rows behind his initial set, Greed would sprout a new plan from his previous trick. One that was finer, sharper and in essence, more deadly.

Greed leaned back a little and shifted his form again and the little golden haired child that had been running about Dublith a few days prior stared back at Envy, but this time with the trademark golden eyes of the generic Elric package. Envy glared back, at first in total bewilderment, but after a few seconds of analysis as his memory absorbed the image something snapped. Clicked into place, with all the painful clarity of a knife cutting bone. He let out an enraged howl, thrashing and kicking in his younger brother's face as violently as he could – despite the pain it caused him.

"You _bastard!_ You fucking _bastard!_Get out of that form, _get__out!"_

"Daddy didn't like it when I bothered him in his laboratory..." The huge bright eyes regarded Envy's horror with impeccable, angelic sorrow. His voice even wobbled and he dodged and cringed out of range of Envy's kicks with placating meekness. "He didn't like me looking at the pictures in his nice scrolls and books because he was too busy to teach me to read..."

Greed cocked his head to one side as his character feigned obliviousness to Envy's screams and ranting. The other Sin fought against his bindings in his haste to wrap his hands about his brother's mocking little throat and cried out as the ropes burnt and cut his skin. But the mortal hurt was _nothing_ compared to the pain of memory. How dare he? How _dare_he use the form Envy had hidden from himself for hundreds of years. The one he'd tried to forget. The only true memory of his life.

The proof of his failure to be accepted.

_(I'll kill him I'll kill him I'll kill him I'll kill him)_

"He didn't even notice when I stole his precious liquidy metal. I thought it might get his attention, but I didn't' know it would be bad for me. I guess I shouldn't put strange things in my mouth..." Heavy crocodile tears threatened to spill over a sparse dusting of sandy lower lashes and Greed _even_ managed to get his lower lip to tremble.

"No, I didn't! It wasn't that... It was _his_ fault!" Miraculously, the knots that secured Envy's wrists gave way under the stress of his struggling and with a choked snarl he catapulted forward, twisting his fingers about the thin, birdlike neck of the fake child before him. His stomach, hips and back painfully reprimanded against his movement, but Envy was lost in his tortured anger. "It was _his_fucking fault I died!"

"I just…wanted…" Sound hiccuped from the blue little lips, the words choked and indecipherable. But Envy didn't really need to hear; he already knew the tune:

"I just wanted a little attention. I just wanted him to look at me, to play with me, to remember I was alive. I don't think he knew I was alive—he didn't know until I was dead."

The child's voice seemed far away as it smeared thinly through the room and through time: the memory of an apology that had never found the strength to hit Envy's conscience as a categorical imperative. Envy squeezed harder, his own eyes glazing a little as a sharp pang of guilt cut through the bridge of his nose. Watery golden orbs looked at him imploringly, quivering on their last legs of life.

He'd thought... perhaps at one time he'd thought something like that. But he couldn't remember. He'd just... hated for so long. Hate was easy, it didn't hurt as much as the truth did. And what was the truth anyway? He didn't even know anymore himself. Only that it was deceptive, wearing many a colourful guise. And this particular facade just wouldn't stop. It wouldn't. Because Envy couldn't tell.

He didn't remember. He remembered enough, but he didn't remember.

_(I... the silver water... It was pretty... I wanted to play with it 'cause it rolled around the floor in little balls. I wondered if it tasted like aniseed. But it didn't, it made me sick. And it made Daddy madder...)_

"No!"

Choking weakly as juvenile fingers with equally juvenile strength clawed at Envy's hands, the reprint of his former self continued to splutter though his heart-tearing monologue.

"... I shouldn't... stolen Daddy's... I should've... good boy... help him... But all I... got in the way... don' wanna die..."

"Fuck you, you fucking bastard! _Fuck__you!"_

The child sobbed and cried as much as his restricted airway would let him as Envy shook him hard, screaming in his slurred, unclear tirade; drunk upon fury.

_"Don't__kill__me...__Don't__kill__me__daddy!"_ The boy wailed before his golden eyesglassed over - dead and unseeing.

Then, there came the snap.

As if Paul Bunyan had curled one fist inside another and popped the knuckles of his hand. Envy may have been wheezing hard through his teeth as he squeezed and twisted the child's neck as one would wring water from a cloth, but he still heard it. That sound. The sound of bones breaking. He knew that it very well. He made it in other people many times and, in the beginning when he was first brought back, Dante had made it in him too as she sorted him out.

He knew that sound. It _hurt._ Why the fuck did everything have to hurt all the time?

Envy gasped, tears still running hard down his face and released his hold, watching with wild, shaking eyes as his former self crumpled into a little pile on the floor. Silence reigned once again, though Envy was sure he could still hear his frenzied screams reverberating off the walls.

_Screams? Or sobs?_

Letting the sobering lull of the room fall over him in a heavy shroud, Envy drew in his limbs as close to his body as he could manage and, shivering badly, fought to regain his self control. The little pile on the floor shifted, glowed and changed, and once again Greed was in front of him, lying casually on his side, his arm wedged beneath his neck. Slowly, like a snake gliding through the grass toward its prey, his smile_slithered_ back into place; eyes alight with dark mirth.

"Nasty... I guess you're not entirely lost to that annoying human guilt."

"Don't... _ever_ use that form again," Envy whispered, his throat raw from the outburst. He curled in on himself further, wrapping his arms about his stomach and stared, beaten, at the floor, his long hair falling over his face. "I don't care if you can't die. I-I'll kill you, I will..."

He coughed once, and fought back a cringe at the sound. It was loud, abrasive, punching a clean hole through the fragile silence. Greed wasn't pushing him… he didn't need to. Loose cannon, that's what he'd said. All he needed to do was put a tiny spark to the fuse then sit back and watch the fireworks. He was enjoying it. He was enjoying it all…

"That wasn't me. You don't know, you weren't even born then. That wasn't me." Almost as an afterthought – perhaps it was – he added, "I would've fought back."

Greed only smirked, eyes narrow and cold.

"And they say the pen is mightier than the sword. I'd like to think the mirror beats both." Greed yawned. "You said you'd forgotten your old form... Liar, liar, pants on fire. That is to say, your arse _is_ still pretty hot. You still had a few left in the old fleshy memory banks: is that what your Pop looked like, hmmm? Does the short fuck know about his copy?"

Envy shook his head weakly, tangling his fingers in his hair. Ed couldn't know. It would…complicate matters. He didn't need his sympathy…and he didn't want it. Not for that. Not sympathy. He wanted plenty, but not _sympathy._ It didn't fit the feelings he harboured toward his death. It was wrong.

"Hurts to take a real look, doesn't it? Ooh boy and if he ever found out..." Greed snorted.

"He won't," Envy replied through the thicket of his hair. "I'll be dead once the kid is born. There's no such thing as a non-homunculus, non-human."

"No, there isn't. Guess that saves me a job," Greed shrugged. "Not that I wanted it saved. I do wonder though, how did it feel to fuck your brother? Any sparks? Fireworks? Did his Automail make a funny 'ping' sound?"

"If it had meant that much to me I would have remembered."

Greed harrumphed in disappointment, staring at the top of Envy's bowed head for a while, until he clicked his tongue and yanked another fistful of the other Sin's long hair. Envy grunted as he was pulled forward, clawing at the hand that seemed intent on scalping him and tried to back away. But Greed had no intention of letting him go and, whether he agreed to walk or not, dragged him through a multitude rooms until he reached a closed door, hidden away in a dark passage at the back of the house.

It was smaller, less ornate than the other doors in the manor, pocked with woodworm and green-freckled with a plague of fungi. The smell of must, earth and something like cider assaulted his nostrils and the damp, sour air wafted beneath it and sent a chill running along Envy's spine. He did know this place, he recognized it now. Greed's hideaway was _Dante's_ stronghold. The one in which he'd been reborn.

And killed. A second time. This door... it led to the cellar. He remembered the stench of it clear as day, four hundred years certainly hadn't improved it any. Envy shot him a questioning look, still gripping the roots of his hair.

"Wh-wha?"

Greed smirked nastily, then opened the door and shoved Envy through it. The Sin let out a shallow cry as he stumbled headlong into the darkness and lost his balance on the top step. Luckily, though inertia swore against it, he managed to fall back against the sharp, makeshift stairs rather than tumble headfirst down them. Still, the short journey to the cellar floor was painful one and when he finally slammed against the cold, stinking dirt, the impact knocked the wind out of him and he lay, gasping, watching white spots dance merrily across his vision. He could already feel the sting of the air against fresh grazes and groaned as his ankle began to throb.

The younger Sin posed in the doorway, the light behind him illumination his figure like a neon sign for trouble, or more possibly 'last exit'. Envy could no longer see his face, but he was sure he knew what sat upon it.

_(smarmy, smirking bastard...)_

"I'd have said 'Watch your step!' but that's a bit redundant now isn't it?" Greed ran a hand through his short, dark hair and leaned conversationally against the doorframe.. "You're boring me already, _futotta-bakemono__san_. That's not a good thing. But luckily, I have a job for you."

Edward himself was partial to the odd joke.

Contrary to popular belief, when one could fit into the same pants they wore as a pre-teen one certainly had to harbour a sense of humor about it. Oh yes, when your darstardly genetic makeup refused to bolster your height past the mark of certifiable midget, you had to be able to take a joke.

Or two.

Six was pushing it. And it was because of this continuous onslaught of jibes toward his stature over the tentative period of puberty that Edward's tolerance toward the aforementioned wisecracks sunk dangerously low. Indeed, a miniature walking Vesuvius on a good day, Edward was near-obsessed with the idea that people were making fun of him behind his back. Cowlick swaying in the breeze like antennae, ready to pick up the illicit dig, Edward's godlike temper – really the only thing large about him – simmered testily beneath his skin, waiting for any cheeky charlie who dared a tempting pick the scab at the top of the volcano.

However, _this_ time Edward really felt an eruption would only make matters worse. Disastrous in fact – if said matters weren't already heading toward the ubiquitous grouping of cataclysm. For really, it _had_ been his fault that the train had been delayed. He'd been clumsy in his haste andaccidentally fell into the gap between the platform and the carriage wheels, requiring Al to spend several minutes fishing him out as the generators beneath the train hummed ominously by his right ear. _Then_ there had been the issue of payment for tickets, two now, because Al decided he'd go with him after all. Edward was sure he'd put his wallet in his pocket. Al vouched for placing it in the inside lining of his tote. After nearly ten minutes of pointless arguing and a frantic rifle through his belongings Edward stood at an embarrassed loss while the other passengers on the train swore and grumbled and took bets on whether he'd actually hidden the blasted wallet up his arse.

It was only when Edward shrugged in tired resignation and felt something thick and squarish nudge gently against his armpit that he realized all along his travelling coat had an _inside__pocket._ Then remembered that he'd thought he'd better make use of it for once as his new slacks did not have the security of the tight, deep pockets of his leather pants.

Murphy was an inconsistent bastard as was his set of rudimentaries.

The shameful blush on his face was almost as red as his overcoat and quite similar to the shade of scarlet that most of his audience had found filtering over their vision, yet Edward meekly paid his and Al's fare and scuttled aboard, his brother clutching an armful of clothes that they hadn't managed to manoeuvre back into his suitcase.

Out of all the uneventful journeys Edward had experienced on the Amestris main line (save the time Mustang had ordered him to travel back to central on the train that The Blue Brigade just _happened_ to be hijacking at the time), this one was the doozy. The air conditioning in eighty per cent of the class B carriages had broken down and the passengers had been left to swelter in the uncomfortable heat, the only fresh air available being that of whatever sparse gusts blew through the multitude of open windows.

_Then_ the porters found that the chiller in the main kitchen carriage had malfunctioned and not only had half the food spoiled, all the drinks had become warm. Most of the ice in the freezer had been stationed off for the high-paying first class travellers and those in economy had to either drink their beer Drachmanian-style or pay extra for a few cubes of frozen water.

An honorable mention also went to the fact that the overnight train was strangely overcrowded and even though Alphonse had kindly given up his seat for a young woman with a bandaged knee to stretch out upon, the brothers still managed to incur the brunt of their fellow passenger's resentment. Even curled up piteously in the passageway, Al somehow seemed to get in the road of the porters and Edward almost got his face rearranged by an irate young man who'd accused the boy of 'taking too long to wipe his arse' in the carriage's only working toilet.

And when, at nine o' clock in the morning, the train squealed to a halt near three hours out of Dublith, unable to continue because of the danger of heat-warped tracks, Edward (feeling much the harbinger of doom) jokingly suggested he be tied to the signal post in warning for disaster.

No one disagreed.

It was then and there that the brothers decided, though the train would simply back up and take it's cargo safely back to Central as repairs were quickly made to the line, they would instead continue to head South on foot. Edward was now adamant on returning to Dublith, even if it meant he had to walk all day in the blistering heat. True, the extended journey wouldn't bother him; thanks to their global traipsing, Edward and Alphonse had become quite the experienced pair of nomads. But although Al liked to think that his older brother's determination was fuelled by the need to rectify himself to Envy, he knew it was really because Edward would rather cut off his own feet than endure another eight hours amongst such a furious audience.

So, once again, the two found themselves following the endless tracks, Edward sullenly staring into the distance as he trudged along the sleepers, occasionally tripping on the odd raised plank. Only rarely did he reply to Al's bright chirping, and grumbled in reply at that. Al was a trite crestfallen; though he knew well enough that his brother was only nursing his wounded pride and frazzled nerves, he couldn't help but feel a _little_ responsible. After all, if he hadn't suggested they change their schedule, his brother would be enjoying a nice, long sleep in his own bed back in Central about now rather than melting the soles of his boots on the hot ballast beneath the tracks.

Thick leather fingers scrubbed at a heavily spiked cowter with a metallic sawing sound, an action which would have been, if Al were in his true form, a simple scratch to the elbow. He let out his usual contemplative 'Mm," then hung his head a little swinging Ed's suitcase listlessly.

"Um, Nii-san?"

Ed grunted in response, hands shoved partway into his pants pockets. He'd managed to wrap his travelling coat about his waist and had undone a few more buttons on his white shirt, exposing glimpses of his muscular shoulders and Automail. He looked a lot older all of a sudden, more mature...

_Maybe__it's__the__light__colours__he's__wearing?_ Al mused quietly to himself as he stared after his brother's back.

"Nii-san?" He tried again. "I'm sorry..."

Launching an unexpected apology attack on Edward's guilt factory was one of Al's most renowned tactics and definitely his most effective, but the heat had all but desensitized the blond toward anything that constituted 'nagging' or 'complaining' and he shrugged halfheartedly in reply, not even bothering to turn around.

"What for?"

"Making you go all the way back to Dublith. I shouldn't have said anything."

"I'm going back because I _want_ to go back. Not because you told me." There was a twitching nerve of irritation in Ed's voice, though he continued to amble onward, punting a loose stone unhappily.

"Well, that's good," Al commented awkwardly. "So you did want to talk to Envy after all?"

The white, blond and red figure stopped abruptly and clenched its fists at its sides as the seismic ripples of its temper shuddered through its form. Al's clunking footsteps halted as well, though he instinctively took a step backwards.

"Come _on_, Al!" Edward growled, twisting on the spot to glare back at his brother. "Can we, just for _once_, not mention that bastard? I'm really getting tired of hearing his name at the moment!"

Alphonse shifted his imaginary weight from one metal-plated sabaton to the other, clutching the handles of the battered leather tote tightly.

"I-I'm sorry." He murmured. And this time he was. Mentally scolding himself for his eagerness to be an uncle to something much cuter, sweeter and softer than a kitten, Al could only wade through his own culpability at his failure to recognise his brother's fretful fatigue. Of course, one had to suffer a_little_ pity for Envy, what with all the terrible and frightening experiences he'd had to stomach, so to speak. But it was easy to forget how much Edward's own worry had rusted over his nerves. Considering it was his child that the Sin was carrying. Not only did the blonde have to worry about his unborn baby's safety as long as it was inside Envy, of whom Alphonse had learned was not noted for taking care of himself, but once the Shape shifter did give birth, well... Edward would be a father. An adult, suddenly responsible for a weak and defenseless child. Ed had never even had so much as a pet goldfish to be responsible for, though at one time when he was much younger he'd kept a pet rock but even Mr Stone had died young in a terrible swimming accident.

Edward was going to be a father and he hadn't many good examples to reference. Shigu, as kind as he was toward the Elric brothers, had never been much of a paternal figure as he was someone to hide behind when his wife's legendary temper ignited. Winry's parents were gone before they'd really gotten to know them, Hughes was dead, Tucker had turned his daughter into his dog... And Hohenheim? The mouthpiece of the helmet grazed its gorget as Al cast his melancholy into the dirt. He'd never even caught a real glimpse of his father, save what he'd seen of him in pictures. Edward utterly despised him, so he certainly wasn't an example to base fatherly love off.

The Alchemist was completely on his own, and was probably developing a rather sizeable ulcer because of it.

"Look," Edward said after awhile, his exasperation waning. "You don't have to be sorry, ok? I shouldn't have left things as they were... It wasn't... right to leave without... um... answering a question."

"Oh no, I am!" Al perked up quickly as he was addressed. "It really wasn't any of my business!"

"Yes and no," Ed flicked his sweat-dampened bangs out of his eyes with a jerk of his head. "But you were right. If it had been troubling me in my sleep, I guess it's better to sort it out."

"Mm!" Al nodded happily. "You'll both feel better that way."

"U-um..." Edward tugged at his shirt a little. "W-what _did_I say... exactly? J-just for... you know... Just out of interest."

"You said 'What do you mean?' a lot and "Don't, Envy...", "Don't do that!" and "If you stay, you stay, why do I have to mind about it?"

"O-oh," Edward stuttered, hoping his blush wouldn't be visible through his sunburn. He had to wonder at this point what kind on impression Al had been getting from his and Envy's bantering and antics and whether he'd figured out that Envy's retaliation often contained uncalculated sexual connotations.

"What did you mean by 'Don't do that!" Nii-san?" Al asked, tipping his helmet slightly to one side, plume bouncing. Edward jumped.

"Oh er... nothing. He was just trying to beat me up... yeah. That's all." A large, false smile tore across Ed's face and he sighed with relief when his little brother nodded thoughtfully. "But um... Al?"

"Mm?"

Edward blanched a little.

"What _do_ you think of Envy and I... You know... we're not a couple or anything..."

"Of course not!" Al chuckled. "But you're a family. Families have to stick together."

"I mean," Ed continued, not really listening to the reasonable explanation. "It's not like we _love_each other. It's not a conjugal relationship, more of a kind of...de facto... uh... agreement at best."

"I know that, Nii-san. But you don't have to be in love with Envy to want to look after the baby."

"It's just... U-um... how do you explain to a kid that he's got _two_ fathers? I mean, as girly-looking as Envy is, even if his own powers returned in some magical, mystical way I don't think he'd want to play 'Mother' anymore than I would."

"You two will figure it out," Al reassured him gently. After all, 'Mother and Father' is just the natural pairing. You could really call yourself what you like."

"I'd hate to think of the possibilities he'd come up with," Edward rolled his eyes.

_(Toad__and__Tapeworm?__Perennial__and__Palm__Tree?__Chalk__and__Cheese?__I__know__who'd__be_ cheesed_at__that__one...__)_

"Well you _could_ just use your names, that would probably be the easiest solution. Or... "Al giggled but trailed off suddenly, looking past his brother at the countryside beyond. "Nii-san? Is that where the tracks are broken?"

"They're not broken," Edward said as he took a few steps backward and turned. "They're only warp-"

He stopped abruptly.

And stared.

Warped? _Warped?_ By the _heat?_ They must have meant another line - the sea-sick, rippling tracks of metal were twisted and buckled far beyond any damage the sun and atmospheric heat could inflict. And not _only_ were the tracks as cockeyed as the spine of a certain fabled old man (who'd generally just done the whole 'crooked' shebang to death) they'd _also_ been wrenched away from their resting places and twisted, sleepers and spikes lancing pell-mell like quills on a very long, anorexic porcupine. Miles up the road, their silhouettes shivering in the distant haze, linemen were already hard at work, pulling up the broken sections of track to replace them with the shining bars of metal that were stacked haphazardly in the back of their utility vehicles. Edward shuddered a little, despite the heat, as a sinking apprehension slowly drowned in his gut.

This was... too severe to have simply been performed by the temperature alone. The brutal damage inflicted upon the tracks seemed more like the work of a natural disaster: a flood perhaps or a major earthquake. Possibly even a stampede of wild Titans, but not _heat_damage.

"This is..." Edward went to say, but was interrupted as Al waved him over to a spot on the ground, pointing toward the edge of the sleepers with a shaking finger. Ed followed the line of his arm until he found what had startled his brother and let out a surprised gasp.

Al's gauntlet motioned to a section of the track that had been ripped up. The ground around it was channelled with deep scratches. Ten in total. Like ridges made from strong fingers... or _claws._

"Nii-san," The voice that echoed from the depths of the armor was barely more than a whisper, but was heavy with infectious concern. "You don't think it was... _One__of__them?"_

"Homunculus," Ed supplied in a small voice and looked at the tracks again, this time from the perspective of one who knew what kind of strength the artificial humans possessed. Now that he thought about it, the tracks did look as though someone had just pulled them out of the ground and shaken them as one does dust from a mat.

The finger marks, _claw__marks..._ Well, they could indicate Lust... but why? What was the point in her stopping the train? What was the point in any of them stopping the train? Unless, perhaps it was so he couldn't return to Envy...

Couldn't return to... what? Help him? Help him... what? What could he possibly need help with? The baby? What about the baby? Was he having the baby? Was he...

_(Help__him__stop__them__taking__the__baby...__They__want__the__baby...__He's__had__the__baby__and__they're__trying__to__take__it__away__and__they're__stopping__me__'cause__they__know__I__don't__really__want__them__to-_ oh fuck!)

Edward shook himself a little, clearing the tumult of elucidative commentary in his head before he began sprinting up the tracks, Al clanking behind in close pursuit. His only clear objective now was to get back to Dublith as soon as he could. Trouble was brewing: he could smell it in the air. And he had no intention of tasting the final product if he could help it.

Lust poked at the covers on Envy's bed quizzically, then turned around, sat down and sighed.

Where the _hell_was he?

Six weeks of travel from the Drachmanian alps to Central city with Dante and Gluttony had almost driven her to her dead wit's end. Their master just wasn't the most entertaining of travelling companions. And although Lust, who had quite a few miles logged under her belt herself, could _usually_ cope with sitting quietly for many hours on the road, she was distracted with her concern for her expectant brother. Would he be alright? Was he managing to survive among the humans that he despised so intently? Or could he have possibly given birth already? Perhaps there'd been complications? What if they'd had to abort the pregnancy? What if he'd got sick again? What-

And then Lust had let out a strangled yelp as the drool that trickled lazily from Gluttony's mouth pooled in the material between her knees and spread a gooey wetness through the weave. Muttering crossly, she'd levered his head up and swung her legs out from under his chin. Her roly-poly older brother had a habit of lounging over her when he got really bored: he appeared to have _no_ idea of what the term 'personal bubble' referred to. This hadn't pleased Lust in the slightest, especially when she was so lost in the fog inside her own her that she forgot to push him away. Now she had a rather nice reservoir of saliva between her thighs that would dry to quite the unsavory stain if she didn't wash it out.

But she'd let it slide (for really, what else could spit _do?)_ and had sat out the rest of the time quietly until the small party reached the city. Then she'd bidden her Master and brother goodbye and hitched a lift on a mining convoy going South. Of course, the train would have been a better idea, but she'd unfortunately missed the last one by half an hour and it would be too hard to catch up now. Besides, the convoy took the main track rather than the back roads and seemed much faster than the Southern Sleeper. They'd said they'd only be going as far as Rush Valley, but Lust's driver had agreed to take her all the way to Dublith after the others had stopped since she was _'such__a__sweet__gal__n'__all'._

And now, she was here. In Dublith. In the very house she'd had to abandon her ailing brother nearly half a year ago. God knows she'd wanted to return sooner, but there'd been no way considering the amount of work the Homunculi had undertaken in their attempt to keep Scar within the borders of Pride's Martial Law. But now, she was here.

She was here.

And Envy _wasn't._

Her worry played jeopardy with her conscience again, firing a barricade of 'who, what, when, where, how' questions as she searched the room with her eyes for what seemed like the millionth time in ten minutes. There was no sign of him. There was no sign of anyone in the house – although there_had_ been two rather bulky souls slaving away in the butchery that adjoined to the cottage, but they'd been much too caught up in their own work to notice her. She hadn't _really_ wanted to ask them anyway as they probably had little to do with the Curtis', just hired hands to help in the shop. Probably had no idea a freak of nature was living right above their noses.

So, besides them, the house was empty. That bugged Lust. That bugged her a _lot_.

But what irked her even more, or more correctly, caused a wave of ill-boding to rush up her spine was the fact that, though she was sitting right_on_ the bed her brother had supposedly been sleeping in – and he had been, or someone had; the covers were rumpled and pushed aside – she could not sense any trace of him at all. His scent was gone entirely.

That was _odd._

Homunculi, even when weak, would still give off their trademark aroma – a kind of metallic, electric scent which seemed almost the smell-equivalent to the fizzing light that signalled an alchemic exchange. The signatures differed between the siblings, of course. Sloth had thought they smelled a little like blood, but Lust had noticed that only she and Wrath, the younger ones, had that sour pungency about them. The elders, namely Pride, Envy and Gluttony had developed their own scent as the fresh, blood-like tang lessened, dulled and became something of an imprint of themselves.

Gluttony's was sweet, almost sickly, like coagulated mead. Pride's she'd only gotten a glimpse of, though his woody, sharp, pine-needle scent was all over the Central Military buildings and the Fifth Laboratory. He smelled like old furniture, or possibly rotting upholstery and Lust was glad she hadn't been posted in Sloth's position as his desk-ridden lapdog. She wouldn't have been able to keep her head about someone who reeked like a pensioner's flat. And Envy? Envy's scent was much more subtle than the rest, a sort of burnt, salty odor, almost chemical but very thin. His was the hardest to pick up; given his dependency on his ability to become untraceable, there was a particularly logical explanation for that. But still, Lust had attuned her nose to it and did not like the fact she couldn't pick it up anywhere at the Curtis' residence.

Biting her lip, she got up once again and soundlessly checked the rooms of the house a third time, investigating wardrobes and cupboards even though the notion of Envy holing up in a closet was pure idiocy. He wasn't here. He _really_ wasn't here. And by the way his scent had completely evaporated, he hadn't been for quite some time.

Lust wandered into the kitchen, rubbing at her sleeves hopelessly. He might have run away, she couldn't rule that out of the equation. Even though he'd practically been ordered not to, one couldn't blame him for trying. He hadn't been at all pleased that he'd been left behind, even though his growing stomach and fading strength would have clearly been an incredible hindrance to the Sin's mission. But he'd known it was best for him to remain, even if it was with the Elrics. At least here he had a roof over his head and food to eat. Surely he couldn't have been stupid enough to turn his nose up at a free meal ticket!

Only... it was a free ticket from _Edward_, the number one cause of Envy's problem. Turning up his nose would probably be the _mildest_ thing he'd do. Lust shook her head and walked over to the back door, pushing it open. He probably _had_ run away, knowing his hatred toward the blonde... But if so, where would he have gone? The Sin took a deep breath, stretching a little, then stopped in mid-flex and sniffed.

Along with the scent of cut grass, pollen and dew, an acidic saltiness – like the smell of seawater in human hair – radiated from about the backdoor steps. Lust dropped her arms and sniffed again, letting the trail of smell guide her down the garden path and to a hole in the fence cutting off the Curtis' property from the empty section behind. Climbing though the opening, Lust continued to track her brother, staggering a little as the posts of her high heels sunk into the soft earth beneath the long grass and found herself stopping beside the lone apple tree at the far end of the lot.

The fragrance of him was strongest here, though it had altered a little, taking on the green piquancy of the younger Homunculi. Confused, Lust sniffed in hard and coughed as she caught a sand fly up her nose. Spluttering and hacking, she waved her hands about her face, shooing away the cloud of insects swarming about the tree that were drunk on the whiff of the decomposing apples.

_Well,__his__scent__might__have__changed,_ she reasoned to herself. _Since__the__rest__of__him__has__…_

She gave one last rasp, spat with unladylike vigour into the grass and then stared at _that_a moment. The grass... not the loogie. There, scattered around the tree like illustrations to a dance-step manual and embossed into the grass obviously much earlier when it had been soggy with dew, were footprints. Lots of them. The papery skin around Lust's dark eyes crinkled as she observed them.

_There__were__two__sets...__no,__three.__One__had__been__circling__the__tree__a__couple__of__times..._ She caught sight of the pile of fruit Envy had collected and frowned. _Collecting__apples?__Then__there'd__been__two__others.__One__with__decidedly__smaller__feet.__Then,__one__had...__disappeared?_

Lust cursed her underdeveloped tracking abilities and concentrated hard at the clues on the ground. The circling set was thinner and was mostly likely to have been made by bare feet, their creator swinging toward the possibility of Envy. The other two she really wasn't sure, only that there were a few marks of the smaller set close to the trunk, but when they petered away they became strangely larger. Longer. Pointed.

The Sin followed the lone trail curiously, baffled by the fact that, though it was only one set of footprints, Envy's scent followed them, still hanging like a thick, invisible cobweb in the air. So deep was she in concentration she crashed into the wooden struts of the back fence with a hollow thud and cursed loudly. Taking a moment to rub her pounding skull and brush away a thin trail of blood that inched down her forehead, Lust leapt up onto the edge of the crimped iron, crouching with feline readiness, gazing at the scenery beyond.

The scent kept going, past the blocks of houses that ran behind the lot, past the borders of Dublith and out to the forests beyond. Lust shuddered a little as she recognized the woods in front of her. She'dbeen here not so long ago. Well, not long by _her_standards. And that time it had been, once again, under the orders of Dante.

To shepherd back a certain naughty child who had gone astray.

_(Over the hills and far away... But he was the lamb that wouldn't follow Mary around. He was the lamb that went to the slaughter house...)_

Swinging herself over the fence she crept cautiously, albeit quickly through the back streets of Dublith and towards the forest. It was a fact that beasts preferred solitude to give birth to their young, but they always remained close to home.

And Dante's mansion had been home to them all. For a time.

_The smirk had climbed over that face nearly three hundred years previous and it was one of the first memories of the man who, in truth, Envy should have really called his stepfather._

_The__man__beenreborn__'Greed'__and__suitably__at__that__-__though__Envy__prefferd__his__own__title__of__'Shark__Man',__aptly__describing__the__appearance__and__nature__of__the__Homunculi's__newest__addition.__The__merchant__trader__Dante__was__married__to__for__seven__years__under__the__guise__of__the__wealthy__Youswell__heiress__Victoria__de__Clare__had__only__loved__her__for__her__figure__ – __or__more__aptly_figures_,__those__of__which__calculated__her__vast__wealth._

_Dante__had__known__this,__of__course,__she__was__not__the__innocent__young__virgin__the__trader__had__originally__thought__she__was.__Her_physicalities _had__been,__but__that__was__where__Dante__flippantly__threw__in__the__concept__of__'separate__mind,__body__and__soul'__later__on__when__he'd__accused__her__of__ensnaring__him__under__a__false__identity.__He_had _married__Dante.__He'd__just__married__her__in__a__form__that__was__someone__else's._

_"At__least__this__way,"__Dante__had__reasoned.__"You__get__cunt_and _conversation."_

_Greed's predecessor had had to agree. In a grumbling, narrow-eyed kind of way._

_Yet__Dante__hadn't_meant _to__fall__for__him__quite__as__passionately__as__she__had.__Hohenheim__had__left__a__raw__patch__in__her__heart__and,__being__the__romantic__that__she__truly__was,__the__Alchemist__practically__wilted__without__someone__to__love,__lust__and__obsess__over.__Her__son,__she'd__found,__though__he__was__thoroughly__dependant__on__her__care,__could__not__darn__the__wound__as__a__man__could__and__so__she__sought__another,__then__another,__then__another__-much__to__the__acrimony__of__Envy's__higgledy-piggledy__parts._

_The__Aegan__Trader__had__nothing__to__offer__save__attention__and__even_that_he__didn't__spare__a__minute__of__until__Central__announced__its__conquest__of__the__other__continents__and__trading__ceased__for__the__many__years__the__compass-point__countries__fought__against__their__expanding__middle.__His__previously__stable__assets__were__confiscated__by__the__military__and__his__riches__whittled__away__swiftly__as__the__government__slapped__him__hard__with__trading__taxes.__Trade__winds__blew__sour;__Central__saw__the__Aegeans__as__cash-cows__andrefused__to__support__their__economy__while__they__rebelled.__Greed's__predecessor__fled__up__country__to__his__wealthy__girlfriend__and__finally__bowed__down__on__one__threadbare__knee.__As__soon__as__poverty__nosed__into__the__picture__he'd__become__interested__in__talking__business.__Proposals.__Legal__joinings.__Money.__Lots__of__money._

_And finally children, something which Dante, even in her borrowed body, could not provide. Her soul had changed, it's humanity had eroded after shifting house so many times and the couple's many attempts eventuated in four stillborns, countless miscarriages and then nothing at all._

_The__man__had_not _been__pleased.__He__wanted__a__son,__an__heir.__Human__sin__differed__to__that__of__the__less__emotionally-complexHomunculi,__as__they__often__appeared__hand__in__hand.__The__man__was__addicted__to__wealth,__gluttonous__for__lust__and__greedy__for__pride.__Children__were__pride,__even__more__so__in__the__older__days,and__he'd__not__yet__been__provided__with__one.__It__made__him__feel__inadequate__compared__to__his__peers,__and__that__made__him__uncomfortable.__No__man__likes__to__feel__inadequate.__Especially__not__in__the__hanging__departments._

_Unknown__to__Greed,__of__course,__he_did _have__a__son.__Perhaps__not__the__kind__one__would__show__off__decked__out__in__ornate__rompers__in__a__gilded__stroller__to__friends__and__neighbours,__but__Gluttony__was__one__of__the__first__Homunculi__Dante__made__by__herself__using__a__bastard__child__that__one__of__the__Manor's__servants__had__given__birth__to.__No__doubt__it__had__been__her__husband__that__had__impregnated__the__girl__as__he__became__more__and__more__impatient__with__Dante's__stubborn__womb__and__this__only__strengthened__the__Alchemist's__resolve__to__use__him.__The__boy__had__been__difficult,__'simple'__as__the__family__doctor__had__kindly__euphemised,__though__the__Master__of__the__House__seemed__to__take__to__him__anyway,__lugging__him__about__and__pampering__him__as__if__he__was__his__own.__Which__only__furthered__the__proof__that__he__probably__was._

_In a fit of rage and discontent, Dante 'accidentally' left the garden gate open and the adventurous little toddler had wandered to the lake, tumbled in and drowned. Later, as Greed's predecessor stormed and cursed, Dante secretly fished out the little body and took the child's mother to the Dublith countryside 'for her health'. She led the travelling party to her mansion and drugged the lot of them, later killing them for the use of their souls as she worked on perfecting the first formula for a variation of the Philosopher's stone. One that could be milled using similar ingredients to the compounds Hohenheim had listed, yet could be created with a minimal amount of human souls._

_Something a little simpler, a little less... apocalyptic._

_The result was an unstable yet powerful substance that could take both a liquid or solid state and had the ability to amplify Dante's own incredible alchemic power. After she'd amassed a small amount and tested them, Dante took it upon herself to create a Homunculus who would then be able to generate the incomplete stones within himself, for which she'd use in her own experiments and as food for her resurrected son._

_Envy was, at that time, a monster of a boy – barely recognizable as a human. His mother had been able to iron him out slowly over the first hundred-odd years of his new life, but it had taken time and attention she couldn't always afford to lavish upon him. Especially when she was busy 'lavishing' her new husband instead. Envy had been nurtured, or more aptly, molded, into a deformed, contorted replica of his former self, finally able to stand after fifty years of closed curtains that shut out the daylight that burned his unprotected retinas. Fifty years of bedsores and stained sheets as his inside-out form wept, pissed and bled on its own free accord, his sensory system and muscles being stuck in completely the wrong place to stop it. Back then he hadn't the power to regenerate himself. He hadn't even the power to speak._

_The__only__thing__Envy__had__been__capable__of__was__to__hurt.__And__he__did.__Constantly.__Yet__his__mother__forced__him__to__live__on.__She__said__she__loved__him.__But__she__only__loved__success.__Unlike__Hohenheim,__Envy__was__not__allowed__to__be__her__failure,__she__wouldn't__let__him__ – __even__when__she'd__been__forced__to__gag__the__toothless__hole__that__was__his__mouth__when__his__piteous__mewling__interrupted__her__sleep_.

_He could have hated her for that. He should have. But his anger was smothered when, in the times of the Great Pain where he'd shuddered and convulsed in excruciating waves of agony, Dante offered him a few splinters and chips from the pure Philosopher's stone Hohenheim had left her as a parting gift. It would have been better had she actually surrendered a whole chunk of her precious bauble to make him well, but although Envy wished it wasn't so, the Alchemist would never have made such a sacrifice. She had taken care of him and nursed him as a mother would a sick child, but that's as far as her generosity would stretch. Dante was a fickle, selfish character. The stones were her immortal life and her son had only been a product of blackmail to butter the paws of her wandering lover._

_So he lived on. The pain lived on._

_And__after__two__months__of__toil,__Gluttony__was__created,__providing__a__regurgitated__handful__of__stones__which__eased__his__older__brother__into__a__body__he__could__change__and__morph__at__will.__Envy__waspowerful__now,__much__stronger__than__any__of__them__had__anticipated__and__though__the__boy__was__dubious__about__his__mother's__so-called__'love'__he__could__not__bring__himself__to__destroy__her.__She'd__taken__pains__to__look__after__him,__even__though__she_could _have__just__put__him__out__of__his__misery__-__she__must__have__thought__him__important__enough__to__keep__alive,__which__made__Envy__feel__even__better__about__himself.__And__he__couldn't__forget__the__fact__that__she'd__cared__for__him__through__the__First__Sickness,__when__the__silver__water__he'd__accidentally__swallowed__twisted__his__guts__into__a__cat's__cradle__of__knots__and__made__him__throw__up__until__his__throat__bled__and__his__stomach__burned__from__the__endless__heaving._

_He'd__called__it__the__First__Sicknessfor__he__never_actually _realized__the__mercury__poisoning__had__killed__him__until__many__years__later__when__Dante__revealed__the__truth__about__his__everlasting__body,__his__father's__treachery__and__her__Plan.__Then,__along__with__his__blind__loyalty__to__his__mother__came__a__certain__degree__of__wicked__awe.__Envy__had__watched__as__Dante__mercilessly__destroyed__four__innocent__people__in__front__of__him__as__well__as__sending__the__putrid,__bloated__body__of__an__already__deceased__toddler__beyond__the__gate__in__order__to__create__herself__another__foot__soldier.__Mommy,__Envy__concluded,__was_not _a__person__one__should__mess__with._

_For one got much worse then a smacked bottom if one got on the wrong side of her knickers._

_Then, as a surprise to them all, Lust was created. Dante had thought Hohenheim had given up on creating the Philosopher's stone and had simply wiped all traces of himself from the surface of the earth, yet it seemed his legacy yearned to live on. The woman from whom the first Lust was cast from had been a sacrifice by a Northern cult as per their confusing and alien religion that called for monolithic stone arrangements and long white robes with beards to match. Dante had hoped to find Hohenheim's trail and had quickly pursued after hearing rumors about a 'strange creature born from the gates of hell' that was terrorizing the plains beyond Drachma, but her frantic searching unearthed nothing but fables and stories of her estranged lover. Lust had been 'sorted out' and brought home to Dublith to live with the dysfunctional little family. And all was well until Dante found out that that her husband was leaving for a girlfriend he'd met while travelling though Central._

_Apparently, Victoria did not make him happy. Youswell did not make him happy. And the fact that the mines were running dry and the De Clare wealth was quickly depleting with the couple's obligatory high-flying lifestyle on top of Dante's travelling and secret purchases of alchemic equipment. The fact that, if they continued living how he'd insisted in their wedding vows, they'd be destitute within a year._

_He'd been a wee bit pissed about that…_

_His wife had begged and pleaded he stayed, even went as far to reveal her secrets to him, display her talents – especially that for making counterfeit money. Though he'd nearly hit her in his rage when he learned of her trickery, he revelled in the fact that he now possessed his very own golden goose and kissed her, telling her that he was just tired and irritable – he'd only meant to go to Central on business. He then bade her make as much goldas he could carry, if not a little more and left, promising to return as soon as he'd settled his affairs._

_Or_had _an__affair,__as__Dante__had__correctly__assumed.__The__moment__her__husband__stepped__into__his__carriage,__Dante__sent__Lust__and__Envy__on__their__very__first__mission:__testing__her__husband's__fidelity.__Naturally,__her__fears__were__well__established__and__two__days__later__Lust__reported__via__telegram__that__Envy__had__found__his__stepfather__in__bed__with__a__buxom__brunette__(though__he'd__had_no _idea__what__they'd__been__doing__andwhen__he__questioned__his__mother__later__she'd__beaten__him__and__told__him__that__it__was__whorish__and__dirty__and__he__wasn't__allowed__to__speak__of__it__ever__again!)._

_Dante__cursed__his__adultery,__his__lies__and__her__lovesick__stupidity__and__set__to__reclaim__her__husband__from__the__clutches__of__his__thieving__whore...__Only__to__find__that__the__whore's_pimp_had__reached__them__before__she__had.__And__he'd__reclaimed__too.__Reclaimed__right__in__the__heads,__a__flintlock__shot__each._

_It__had__been__Hohenheim__who'd__inspired__Dante__to__name__her__Homunculi__children__after__the__seven__deadly__sins,__the__embodiments__of__which__he'd__found__mentioned__in__a__handful__of__old__texts__he'd__'come__across'__while__travelling__in__the__beautiful__countries__to__the__North.__And__although__her__body__was_not _one__that__had__passed__through__the__dark__gates,__at__that__moment__the__immortal__woman__had__become__the__very__archetype__of__Wrath;__her__savage__passion__fuelling__the__intensity__of__her__alchemic__abilities__as__array__curls__snaked__thick__graffiti__throughout__the__streets__of__Old__Central.__The__citizens__had__only__seconds__to__awe__at__the__spectacle__before__Dante__turned__the__thriving__metropolis__into__an__transmutative__inferno,__reducing__the__entire__population__to__a__mere__four__individuals;__all__of__whom__were__deceased__on__certain__varying__degrees__of__the__term._

_Greed was then created by his widow, a pungent, concentrated analogy of his human persona. Dante was convinced that, as her soldier, Greed would be forced into submission and allegiance. But the Homunculus spurned his former wife for her treachery: first for her deception and puppetry of Victoria, secondly for the use of his illegitimate child as a repulsive, ape-like mannequin and thirdly for bringing him back only to become hers once again._

_And when he met Envy...He could only laugh. Which is exactly what he did._

_The little blond child, well over a hundred years old by now, was the most pathetic, pointless example of a man that Greed had ever sneered upon. He'd beaten worse saps as a toddler, robbed lesser boys as a teen and outwitted simpler gentlemen as an adult. The older Homunculus tried to retort, stating that Greed was an idiot, a blind fool, far too eager for pleasure of the flesh, power and wealth, and didn't realise what Dante was capable of._

_But Greed had known from the beginning that he had the upper claw over his brother. He taunted Envy, boasting that the boy would never be able to see past the strings ofhis mother's pinafore to the scathing, wretched creature inside. He chuckled as the Sin ranted and raved about his wandering father, feeding his fire of hatred with snide comments as to why Hohenheim left him and why he'd never survived as a human. Then, as the icing on the cake, he poked fun at Envy's failure to pursue his adversary, calling him a toothless old hound – all bark and no bite._

_It was true Envy had not flown to oppose his father, but Dante had cleverly clipped his wings with promises for more power and the odd assignment to thwart human conquests and hopes. Though he often listened with a well-tuned ear for mentions of the Alchemist and occasionally triedto point their planned chaos in the direction where he might've uncovered a clue as to Hohenheim's whereabouts,the killing of innocents soon became the source of Envy's pleasure. He relished his tasks with giddy delight, nearly orgasming over himself as the blood ran freely and the hurt screamed in the body of someone else other than himself. Sex still befuddled him, but pain and death was easy._

_Needless to say, Greed noticed this. He noticed it very much._

_Dante may have been capricious as her vile jealousy seamed cool threads through her whimsical heart and intelligent mind, but Envy was... raw... powerful... and far too easily pushed. He'd be quite the ally, if prepared correctly, Greed had mused to himself in a strokey-chin moment. And correctly wasn't difficult. All Greed had to do was keep one happy and entertained while the other he could seduce into his trust. It was that simple. And one night, Greed purposefully left the bedroom door open, just so Envy would see with his own eyes, one of the things that bound his mother to the Shark Man._

_(If it's dirty, then why is mother doing it?)_

_Oh yes, the smirk saddled Greed's face, riding high and mighty as Envy's glowering resentment trotted grumbling below. The boy did not like his Mother's new show seemed tolove it more than she loved him. He knew. He'd heard the whispers, the tickling laughter hidden away by closed doors. Keyholes didn't surrender much of a view, and although Envyhadn't a clue of what they were doing that night when the Shark Man would swooned her away to her private quarters, only that alot of flesh was involved. Alot. People shouldn't be naked together like that. It was rude._

_And still, Mother loved him. She loved him almost as much as she'd loved Da- Da-_

_(Hohenheim of Light... I'm not calling him Daddy anymore... )_

_Almost._

_She__didn't__yearn__for__him__as__she__had__the__Golden__Man,__butshe__definitely__loved__him__more__than__she__loved__her__little__boy.__And__the__Shark__Man__knew__it.__He__grinned__because__he__knew__it.__He__grinned__because__he__knew__he__was__better.__But__Envy__knew__long__before__Dante__did__that__her__prize__stallion's__shoes__were__nailed__far__too__loosely,__it's__gate__was__never__bolted__and__the__night__that__Greed__did__leave__the__gate__entirely__open,__the__little__blond__boy__exactly__learned__what__he__could__do__to__win__the__race__for__his__mother's__affection.__The__immortal__colt__spat__out__its__bit,__threw__its__jockey__of__youth__and__finally__gave__birth__to__the__monster__called__Envy,__while__the__son__of__Dante__and__Hohenheim__Elric__screamed__and__cried__as__he__tumbled__headlong__into__the__rectangular__black__vault__of__his__own__grave.__Memories__of__his__past__life__fluttered__along__with__it__like__flowers__thrown__onto__a__coffin.__Envy__hid__them.__They__still__hurt.__And__he__didn't__know__if__he__could__control__them__if__they_did _surface._

Don't think you've won yet, Greed, Hohenheim of Light_,__Envy__had__chuckled__to__himself__as__his__body__stretched__and__sighed__into__it's__new__form.__A__form__that__gave__him__strength,__a__form__that__he__was__not__afraid__in._The track's been uneven on my side long before the Shark Man smirked around. Now the landscaping's different and the horses run on equal ground.

_This meant war..._

Greed had said: "I have a job for you."

To which Envy's mind turned a complete blank. Job? Greed wanted him to do something? Other than suffer horribly in his presence alone?

Of course.

And quite typically of Greed, the job was something equally as unpalatable as having his smirking mug turn up on Envy's doorstep like poo in a flaming paper bag.

Naturally.

The job was as unglamorous as Envy's current condition and nearly ten times as grubby. The job was digging. Excavating. Floundering around on his hands and knees in small puddles of the scummy water and slippery, foul-smelling mud that slicked over the floor of the cellar. Envy was completely soaked, freezing and shivering badly, having been scrabbling away at the mud for a little over four hours. His hair was a sweaty, matted mess, his long nails split and clogged with grime. He'd nearly vomited several times now as the sour, chilly air violated his trachea and curdled with the over-abundance of acid in his stomach. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast the previous day, his appetite having up and left the same time as Ed had, though now, unlike the blond, it had returned with a vengeance. Envy's gut had been flip-flopping dizzily for most of the morning, but in the latter hours, it began running a series of painful spasms. He dug his fingers in, just above the protruding flesh of the baby bulge and groaned quietly.

In other circumstances, he wouldn't have been so secretive about his pain, or his hunger, especially when it had risen to such a degree that even simply breathing showered hot sparks over his swollen abdomen. Warner or Izumi would have been intervening as quickly as their prying noses smelt his distress and by now he'd learnt to trust their help. After all, if they _offered_ their services, it wasn't the same as him _asking_. Only Greed, he'd quickly gathered, enjoyed watching him clumsily claw at the slimy filth of straw and weeds that had basically rotted over the many years to peat on the cellar floor.

"Not really the skilled laborer are you?" he teased, cocking his head as he sat perched on the last step, elbows resting on his knees. "I mean, if I'd wanted to see pigs wallowing in mud I would have gone to a farm."

"Why don't you, then?" Envy sneered, taking a second to regain his breath as the ache in his back ground in another spike. "And fucking leave me alone..."

"Because, _Dead__Man__Waddling_," Greed rubbed a finger under his nose and sniffed. "I am a great purveyor of gift horse's teeth, but I'm not a dentist."

"You fucking arsehole! Why the fuck am I doing this shit? I'm not a fucking animal! Fuck you!"

"Temper, temper, that kind of language isn't getting you anywhere," Greed chided. "You can either dig, or die. I_am_ going to kill you, of course." His mouth shrugged. "Eventually... When I feel like it."

"Just let me go, Greed." Envy stared at the floor, the coldness and the pain causing his voice to splinter. "Look, Lust told me that you and Edward sort of found an understanding that day you let him... you know... He's powerful. Really strong. You'd want him on your side, or at least not _against_ you. This is his kid inside me: you hurt me, you hurt it too. Why incite his wrath when you'd do better just to let things be? I won't say anything. I won't even mention I saw you."

"Really? You won't? Cross your heart and hope to die?" The Homunculus batted his eyelashes prettily in mock compliance and Envy sighed, his exhausted hopes rolling over with a defeated groan. "Edward was... Well it wasn't so much an understanding as it was an information swap. He alerted me to the _other_weakness of my old body and I told him of the universal weakness in all of ours. I'd _hoped_ he would have offed the lot of you, but it seems he preferred to pork you instead."

_"I_ tricked _him_, asshole. Get it right."

"You're defending him?"

"I'm ironing out your creased facts. Let me go. Let the little fart have his kid and... and I'll come back. Them for me... Equivalent trade or whatever..."

"How very valiant you've become," Greed sniggered. "Self-sacrificing indeed; if I didn't know better, I'd say your attitude has done a complete three-sixty. Only-" Greed leaned forward and eased onto his feet, his pointed shoes making odd sucking noises in the oily dirt as he sauntered over to the crouching Sin. "-only I _do_ know better and you're just pulling at the last of the straws. I'm just surprised you haven't tried clawing my eyes out about now..."

"Don't think I won't!"

"Good, because you know, I really need a good manicure to the eyeball." In a movement quicker than Envy could even register, Greed swung his leg up and slammed it down between Envy's shoulder blades, crushing him into the mud. Envy yelped and squirmed under the pressure, trying to twist onto his side as not to squash his belly.

Stale water and mud seeped up his nose and his skin prickled with cold. Flailing weakly, Envy coughed and spluttered until the hurt in his body, the icy chill of the ground and the fatigue from his constant digging and clawing over such a length of time reached over and flicked off his internal shut down switch for the second time that day. The Sin sagged, simply letting his captor near-drown him in the disgusting puddle.

"Now, this kid," Greed continued, flexing his clawed fingers around Envy's middle. "Is about as precious as that damn stone to your Mum. A product of Hohenheim's brats – not only does he carry emotional value, but he could also inherit the shortarses' talent as well. And yours..." Greed carelessly flicked a few sodden strands out of Envy's eyes and ran the back of his hand down his face. "You opened the gate. You learned Human Transmutation. Most _humans_can't do that and they're the ones who're alchemically able. Mummy isn't going to want to let a prodigy in the making out of her sight like Daddy did to you, she's a 'waste not, want not' type."

"Edward... will find you. He won't... allow this... Even if it is against Dante," Envy muttered, gripping Greed's wrist in effort to push it off his body. "You blow his trust once, it's difficult to win back..."

"Keep your soap opera to yourself, I'm not interested." Greed replied, levelly. "Edward will be taking his time, believe me. Even if he _did_ change his mind at the last minute and took the night express, a little birdie told me that the main line from Central to Dublith has been experiencing some _'technical__difficulties'_. By the time your boyfriend gets back, realizes you're gone and figures out where I took you, we'll be on the road to Creta. Although, I really don't care whether he turns up or not. If he does... hey, at least I'll get some practice with my new powers. And my old ones. You'll notice I'm still the ultimate shield – interesting, eh?"

Envy said nothing, yet shuddered a little as, to prove his point, Greed let his skin bleed molten black diamond while his internal Homunculus programming switched wires, altered composites and generally, within the blink of an eye, completely changed the chemical compound of his flesh.

"Now even if your little pals turn up…" The form standing over him was smooth and dark, yet its voice had taken on a crusty, grating value, as it were difficult to speak when he was completely armoured over. Envy dully recalled Alphonse's condition and wondered if the squeaky echo within the metal casing of his temporary body would change much once it had been returned to an organic larynx.

"I wonder if they'd be a match for me? It would be fun to find out but..." Greed removed his foot from Envy's neck and gripped his dirty collar, wrenching him to his knees. "I don't think I really want to risk losing you if I'm wrong. That and I want the stones... I haven't had any since the ones your form came with. So more digging, piglet."

"You fuckwit!" Envy coughed. "I don't_know_ where the stones are! Dante probably found them and took them! Anyone could have!"

"Hey, they were my share and _you_ took them from me. I know they're down in this cellar 'cause I saw you take them there that time!"

"That was nearly two-hundred and fifty years ago!" Envy spluttered.

"So?"

"You can't seriously imagine they'd still be here!"

"You know where they are... And you'd remember. You never forgot things, even though you said you did." Greed snickered. "And I'll admit I'm wrong when I see the entire floor of this shit-hole turfed up. So the longer you 'don't know' where they are, the longer you get to..."

Greed stopped in mid sentence and sniffed at the air, seamlessly morphing back into his human shape. He looked momentarily confused, then wary. Envy envisioned that if Greed had been equipped with feline ears they would have been squashed flat against the back of his head.

"Who the hell...?"

Without bothering to explain much more than that, Greed strode across the cellar and bounded up the stairs, taking them four at a time with forgettable ease. As the door scraped shut and a lock slid rustily into place on the other side, Envy let out a soft mewl and pressed a mud-slicked hand to his hip. The pain hadn't worsened, not yet, but it was strong and constant, ache burning his gut, spine and now his chest and down the backs of his legs. The grinding peristaltic contractions of hunger had been annoying him the most and not simply because of their discomfort. He hated the fact that, although his body had been put under terrible stress from the physical work and the abuse from Greed, it was _still_begging him for food. Apparently his pregnancy had a one track mind.

_Stupid__stomach_, Envy huffed to himself, massaging his skin in slow, comforting circles. _If__this__is__what__Gluttony__has__to__put__up__with...__Even__if__he__didn't__eat__'real'__food..__I'm__glad__I__ended__up__as__Envy...__I..._ He stopped and swallowed slowly, a huge lump of realization sinking down his throat.

_(But I'm not... I'm not... really him... Not now... )_

Envy mused the inflection miserably. He_wasn't_ Envy anymore, he wasn't a Homunculus. Perhaps, at another time, in a safer place where a rippling sensation of dread wasn't trying to suffocate his brain he might have felt a little relieved. He wasn't a Sin, he wasn't one of Dante's soldiers. Sure his unique retirement might provide him with a golden-haired crush over a gold watch, but on the whole, he was free. _Free._

Free... and completely terrified about it.

Perhaps... it would be better if he died? Living a normal life... well, as normal as one could _get_having carried a baby to term in a form that all aspects of nature had shaken the finger at and marked with the big, red 'X' of :

'_Not__possible.__Dump__that__ability__on__the__female._'

His experiences over the eight-something months in a mortal body had confused, revolted and scared him, the bad totally outweighing the good. And if Ed didn't want him... If he had to be on his own...

Envy tried to take a deep gulp of air with the intent on calming the way his breath had shortened to worrying little gasps. If Ed didn't want him, Izumi and the others probably didn't either. Though he hadn't _meant_ to, he'd become quite attached to his surrogate family. They were annoying pains in the arse, but at least they looked after him, probably cared for him a little – despite who and what he _had_ been. It wasn't to the point where Envy was already missing their company, but he didn't want to be left all alone, not again. He functioned best in a pack, having never really been on his own before and with the Curtis'... Maybe... even if it wasn't _exactly_ with Ed... maybe...

Envy sighed and coughed. Where the hell were these ideas coming from? His better, more realistic choice of action was to flee to the manor in Central and crouch back under Dante's wing. He may hate her almost as much as his cheating father now, but at least he could _pretend_ not to. He'd have a home then, shelter for his baby, even though Dante would probably claim the child _herself_ – just like she'd planned from the beginning.

And then... that _look_would worm itself onto her face. That greasy, confident, 'I knew you would come to your senses' look. It had always made him nauseous, even when it wasn't directed at him, he could hear it in her tone of voice, see it through the back of her skull. Envy swallowed a lump of bile with a grimace. Was she practicing that oily look for Hohenheim's return? Perfecting and rendering the ultimate glare of domination as he crawled back to her, his lying tongue ready to embrace her feet?

"Ugh..."

He shook his head, hard, trying to shake the image away. It was stupidity clouding his mind - plain, nervous stupidity. Now was not the time to be worrying over the future. _Any_ future of his would depend on whether he slipped from Greed's clutches or not. As Izumi had said, his main concern now was the baby, not-

"Some event which may or may not happen." Envy said out loud, mimicking Izumi's voice. He sighed. "Nice to know but _shit_, woman... How many times can you be wrong?"

Taking another deep breath, this one held between his teeth, he pushed himself carefully to his feet, wincing as his knees barked in complaint and an iced-static sensation of pins and needles buzzed through his ankles. But, besides all that, upright certainly felt a lot better – at least the fuzziness was draining from his head. He sniffed a little and, knuckling his back, looked about his dull and smelly surroundings.

It was obvious the woman had never made much use of the room - the cellar hadn't changed at all since he'd last visited Dante's original stronghold. In one corner, nearly three hundred bottles of wine rested tentatively in a huge, flamboyant wrought iron unit, its curling metal leaves punctured by holes of deterioration and sprinkled with rust. Cobwebs dripped liberally from the glass and iron, giving the queer impression that, along with the powdery orange oxidisation of the metal, the frame had been hit by both winter and autumn at once. At the far end of the small room, sinking slowly into the foul mud, was barrel upon barrel of rotting, mummified apples and next to it, a cider press. Envy almost gagged at the manure-like texture of the floor where obviously the dampness had invaded most. He was certainly over _tarte__tatin_ now – if not anything even _remotely_ apple-related.

Turning away quickly, Envy cursed Greed's deft recollective abilities. Indeed, he _had_ stolen a share of Greed's stones as Dante provided them with a small share she'd decided they should ingest every twenty years or so. Back then, though the woman had figured out their weakness towards their former selves and had carefully hidden the bones of Gluttony and Greed away, she was not certain of how long their bodies _could_ function, not to mention their expiry date. Greed had attempted to store his away, but Envy had pinched them from the hidey-hole place and scampered off toward the cellar, Greed raving at his heels.

_And__now__you__want__payback,_ Envy thought bitterly. _You__petty,__materialistic__bastard._

He rubbed his arms, shivering a little at the cold. In the dim light he watched the dust particles meander about, glinting like flecks of crystal sewn into the heavy air. Set into a trance by their motion, Envy stared at them a while mindlessly before he realized he could see them. He could _see_ them. He could see them because of the light.

The _light._ Not candlelight or a glow from a lantern or even the harsh glare of one of those electric thingamajigs. But_light_ light.

There must be a window.

Wading frantically and painfully through the mud, one arm hooking under his belly while the other swung back and forth, the momentum pushing him forward, Envy reached the side wall of the cellar and searched around for the brightest point. Nudging aside a few crates and heaving himself with great difficulty on top of another, Envy finally located the tiny, yet functional pane from which a diffused, smoggy radiance broke though a caked fresco of dust, calcified by time. The window was about the size of a shoebox and barred by a heavy grate – probably imposed to keep the rats away from the stores. He was a little dismayed at the find, but it wasn't like he was going to fit through the snug exit anyway. He dusted off the glass and, noting the rotten frame, tugged at the catches, pulling the window toward him. It creaked, the wood twisting, glass splintering in its casing, then the whole thing gave a grinding squeal and fell away. Envy gasped as a sliver of the pane sliced the pad of his thumb open and he sucked on the cut, staring out through an overgrown flowerbed into the garden beyond.

That was when the foot came into it.

A foot. Two actually.

Envy almost fell off his makeshift stool in surprise. Two stiletto-clad feet in long, black boots were parked right in his immediate line of vision. For a moment, he thought it was a statue, or perhaps a kitsch garden ornament as Dante, at one point in her life (and a rather senile point at that) had been sucked in by the twee gardening fashion of putting plants in odd containers. Old toilets, Wellies, ceramic pots with kittens on them - that kind of thing. Then, as he looked closer, he found himself recognizing the boots. Not only the boots, either. The legs that went with them.

_(Those heels... Haven't I had one of those stilettos in my eye before?)_

Envy's eyes widened as realization smacked him between the eyes and he gripped the bars, standing up on his tip toes.

"Hey," He hissed loudly, whistling a little to get her attention. "Hey...Lust!"

The feet moved a little as their owner looked around for the source of the voice, then a pair of knees joined them on the grass and Lust's face appeared in the frame, her long hair falling a soft curtain about her chin.

"Envy?"

"Yeah, it's me," he breathed a sigh of relief, then stiffened a little as he remembered his dire situation. Lust could help him... But only if she too didn't get caught by Greed. Then again, what if this _was_ Greed? His eyes narrowed. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Looking for you of course!" Lust's expression was calm, if not a little bemused. "I couldn't sense you at the Curtis', but your scent trailed from that empty lot to here. Envy, what's been happening? Why weren't you staying at the house?"

"I _was_," Envy sighed. He'd forgotten that the Homunculi could trace by scent. His inhuman traits had been absent for so long, he couldn't even remember a simple skill such as tracing one another by signature. Fingering the bars reluctantly, Envy looked over his sister, trying to find a fault in her visage – something that would give Greed away. But he couldn't find anything, not a hair was out of place. Of course, Greed_had_ been particularly deft with his Shape shifting skills, but... Lust? He'd only seen her once and for less than a few minutes at that. He couldn't have gotten her_this_ right – even his Ed had been a little off, now that Envy's brain wasn't holidaying in his pants and had time to replay the seduction episode. It must be his true sister. Besides, why would Greed bother stalling him?

"I thought you guys had abandoned me..."

Lust's expression softened a little and Envy felt a warmth gather in his chest. He really did like the way she did that. Not because it seemed human, but because it seemed less _in_human.

"Envy you know we left you with Edward for your own good. The mission is over now, Dante's recalling us all. You can come home if it doesn't make you ill again..."

_(Home? The Manor? It just... doesn't seem plausible anymore... )_

"I- I can't... It's not... Look. Lust... I've... changed. It's hard to explain. But I-"

"Changed?"

"Yes, but-"

"Have you had the baby yet?" She interjected eagerly,violet eyes brightening.

"I- no... no not yet." Envy winced as another spasm seemed to squash his innards into a neat little ball and dribbled them around his abdomen. "Anyway, Lust... we don't have much time. Greed will be back soon and-"

"Greed?"

"Y-yeah.. he's got my... I mean... _argh!"_ The pain came again, nearly knocking Envy off his perch. He stifled a cry as his body clenched in retaliation then almost bit his tongue as the sound of a door slamming and footsteps clumping up the main staircase thudded through the house. Greed was inside again – probably looking for Lust, whose the scent would have been what distracted him before. Envy grit his teeth and lowered his voice. "Look, yes, Greed is back and-"

"He can't be back, Edward killed him, I saw it..."

_"Listen__to__me!"_ Envy hissed pulling up as close to the bars as he could. "I _know_ he died! We all knew... but he came back! Don't ask me why or how, but he did! And he's powerful..." He coughed and shuddered. "Really powerful. Probably about as strong as two Homunculi taped together...uhh..."

"Envy, you're talking nonsense. Greed can't have come back. Move away from the bars, I'll pull you out"

"What, _half__of__me?"_ Envy batted at her hands, frantically. "Don't be stupid. You couldn't move these bars and even if you did I couldn't run. If Greed caught us... He'd kill you on the spot... No... go, run.. get the others... I can buy a little time for now, but_fucking_ come with reinforcements. You won't be able to beat him alone."

Lust was drawing her claws anyway, but stopped at Envy's odd, desperate tone of voice. She'd seen only a portion of his real fear back in the manor when her days were filled bathing his sweat-drenched forehead and holding back his hair as he vomited, but now his voice was weak and literally shaking with panic. Dull greyish eyes, notthe vicious purple they used to be, were dimmed by fatigue and regarded her with feeble, wavering trust. It seemed as though all the strength he possessed was there in his plea, as if hope alone was all that was keeping him upright. His fingers shook on the bars, knuckles like uneven white pearls. From only looking at what little of his face poked through the opening, she could see he'd lost a lot of weight. Shuffling her feet, she moved back a little and frowned.

"I can't..._leave_ you here..."

Envy paused for a moment, knowing she was absolutely correct but the sound of Greed's footsteps caused his panic to rise again and he flinched, waving her away.

"You have to! Go...! Fuck off... _quickly!_ Get Sloth, get Pride, get whoever! Dante even! Just go! He won't kill me... not yet anyway..."

"Envy the others are in Central, it'll take me at least a day to-"

"I don't care, _go!"_ He exploded in sheer frustration. "And if you can... The garden shed, out by the east wing of the grounds there's a graveyard... Under the name... uh... Frank... no, Freda! Freda... Johanssen there's a little locked box built into the headstone. There're red stones in there, take them with you. That's what he's looking for. It's on your way... Fuck _off!"_

His sister stared a moment longer, dancing a little on her toes, before the magnitude of the situation hit and she suddenly fled, bounding through the trees and out of sight in a blink. His rescuer had left him, again. But Envy knew Lust would not stand a chance against her brother. She wouldn't have bested _him_in a match when he was a Homunculus, so there was no way she'd be able to take on both himself _and_Greed rolled into one. It seemed the name of Lust carried a curse to it - she'd never been as strong as the others, both in fighting ability and in hatred. Whether that was truly a physical or mental handicap, Envy didn't know, but against Greed as he was now?

Envy wilted against the bars and slowly climbed off the crate to the floor, shuddering with disgust as his feet squelched into the mud. So that was it... If Greed hadn't noticed her, slim chance, but if he _hadn't..._

Abated for the moment -hearing the floorboards on the second level creak on the opposite side of the house from which Lust had run -he made to indulge in a sigh of relief when his stomach muscles tightened with a sudden, gruelling clench that punched the air from his lungs vaulted his spine backwards as though he'd been electrocuted. Letting out a sharp cry of pain, Envy's ankles rolled, legs giving way and he stumbled against the crates, knocking a couple over. Eyes wide with panic, he held his breath while the pain crested through him, then stopped, only to begin again roughly five minutes later.

No longer caring about the cold or the slimy, snot-like feel of the mud beneath his bare feet, Envy sank to the ground, gripping his belly; his expression curling round his frenzied gasps. The pain... The pain had not only returned, it had brought a friend, thrown a party, was revving a v-eight enginein the front lawn and doing the fingers to the noise police. It felt as though someone had built a black hole in his guts and was turning the suction on and off at frequent intervals, the dreadful pulsing seemed to pull his groin up over his head and crush his pelvis into his the hell? He'd been suffering hunger pains before, sure, but this was ridiculous! It was true his stomach could growl quite viciously when both his and the baby's need banded together and hit him hard with their physical pickets for sustenance. But...

But this hurt... It wasn't just discomfort, it _hurt_. The child wasn't kicking him, it hadn't even done it's usual soccer practice for the day, but instead it had been squirming about in limited, wriggly movements which was very unusual. Envy's baby had been quite the performer. The Intestinal Tap Dancer, the Vicious Organ Punter and Embarrassing Bladder-Squeezer. The little being squirrelled away in his belly was not one to sit and wait quietly for its grand entrance, oh no. Baby loved attention. Baby loved being noticed, being touched. Baby didn't just want to do one show, he had to have the cartoons first, the opening act, popcorn, performing poodles and mimes before he even _thought_ about stepping onstage.

_This__kid,_ Envy's brain wheezed while his body balled up once again as the pain clawed at his stomach. _Is__about__as__cruel__as__Dante,__as__vicious__as__Pride,__as__large__as__Gluttony__and__as__fucking__attention__seeking__as__Wrath.__For__God's__sake__why__won't__it__just__get_ born!

_(Born?__Hey...__What_ exactly _will__happen__when__it__gets__born?)_

_Well__um...__I__guess...__I__dunno...__Warner__said__something__about__contractors?__No...__Attractions...__no...__What__the__fuck__did__he__say?_Envy scoured his mind, concentrating in the few minutes he had free of the pain as it seemed to wander off nonchallantly around a corner. As if on cue, like the Jiminy Cricket of Doom, Warner's face hopped up onEnvy's mind's shoulder, his shoebrush moustache twitching comically, grey eyes deadpan.

_"You__probably__won't__know__you're__in__labor__until__the__second__stage__when__the__contractions__start__to__become__painful.__Don't__worry,__they're__supposed__to,__it's__just__the__uterus__spasming__as__the__body__prepares__and__positions__the__baby__for__birth.__Try__and__breathe__through__them__like__I__showed__you...__Labor__can__last__many__hours,__or__be__over__in__just__a__few__but__it__is__of__the__utmost__importance__that__you__contact__Izumi__or__myself__if__you__feel__any__unusual__pain,__tightening__or__convulsions.__Remember,__you_cannot_deliver__the__baby__on__your__own,__you__will__need__professional__care.__If__you__ignore__the__contractions__and__fail__to__alert__us,__it__is__probable__that__the__baby__will__die__from__placental__haemorrhage__or__asphixiation__and__you__yourself__will__follow__from__both__the__shock__and__internal__bleeding.__That__is__why__you__have__to__trust__us,__Envy...__Now__give__me__back__my__stethoscope,__please..."_

_(I can... die from this... but I knew that... How bad did he say the pain would get?)_

Envy answered himself with his own thin scream as the contraction pulsed again, then eased away, dragging it's nails along the strained bands of his abdominal muscles as if to say, '_I'll__be__riiiight__back,__don't__go__anywhere...'_. Yet now that the gravity of the situation had finally sunk it's heels in, he felt, in a way, slightly relieved. This was the end of the road, the final curtain call. This was the labor thing... The baby wanted out and in a few hours he'd _get_out and the whole pregnancy fiasco would be over and done with. Only...

Only Warner wasn't present as Envy had counted on.

Izumi wasn't around, as he'd found he'd actually _wanted_.

He was going to be giving birth without the help of his watchful physicians. Which essentially meant he wasn't going to be giving birth at _all_. The only person in the general vicinity who could cut him open was Greed and Greed would probably _keep_ cutting until Envy's guts covered the floor and he bled to death while watching the Homunculus cradle_his_ baby in his arms, preparing it for a life as a tool against Dante – just as Envy had been a tool against Hohenheim. He'd never know the faces of his fathers. He'd never know that the person who carried him for nine long, tedious months died alone and in pain on a dirty floor in a dirty house, killed by dirty hands.

If Greed found out he was ready to deliver, he may as well take the blade to himself and save the wait for the _bastard_ to come downstairs. But if he could_wait..._

Envy bit back another scream as the spasms punched out the bottom of his stomach and a stong wave of nausea gushed over him. Shaking terribly, the strength in his body draining along with the litres of sweat that seemed to _rain_ from his pores, he curled around a broken crate, huddling close and sank his teeth into the wood deep enough to make his gums bleed. Warner'd said... He said the pain would be bad, but _this_? This was much more than Envy could ever handle. _This_ was the same as being stabbed to death over a hundred times all in a single moment, then having momentrepeated again and again. It was the grinding pain he'd felt as a jumbly thing in the basement when he could literally kiss his elbows while his own spleen throbbed lazily in front of his only seeing eye. It was the pain as his human body wasted away as the mercury poisoned his veins and seized around his heart.

His insides, so very, very _male,_were not set up to give birth and the muscles of his makeshift womb were having a hard time dealing with the impossible situation of widening a cervix that simply didn't exist. They constricted and shortened against themselves, desperate for a point of release. The baby now crushed against Envy's slim hips, forcing them apart with the blunt, brute strength precision of hormonal instruction - however only _one_ part of his body seemed to know about the inevitable delivery, while the rest of him freaked out with tremendous pomp and internal tension was far too great and as Envy rocked and clenched and writhed through another harrowing contraction, something inside him strained... weakened...

Then gave.


	14. Et tu Brute?

_O rose, thou art sick!  
>The invisible worm<br>That flies in the night,  
>In the howling storm,<em>

_Has found out thy bed  
>Of crimson joy,<br>And his dark secret love  
>Does thy life destroy.<em>

_-William Blake._

**Dark Humor**

_Chapter 14: Et tu Brute?_

They are brief nuances of time, hairlines of moments that exist only on the foggy shoreline of recollection. Tiny prisms, nanoseconds, frames between key frames that are the vignettes of a day; the spaces of catalogued memory which, although not provocative enough to be classified as 'substantially important', are still filed and stored because they _happened_. Time cannot deny existence, the world is not rewriteable - though history, it seems, can be a little banausic - and details, as mundane as they may seem are placed into this inner system just the same as epic feats and events.

Time isn't picky. It just does its job.

Yet quite often, perhaps because of some universal fault or the negligence of the timekeeper themselves, the indexing comes out a little haphazard. Things get jostled, rearranged like the contents of a shopping bag – hence the reason where, when one is trying to recall the tiniest detail, such as the placement of keys, wallets or watches, the pieces of reinforcing memory are often mismatched and unrelated. One brings to mind perhaps, a chair, or a drawer or the act of preparing a drink rather than the precise location of the object. These domestic instances, usually forgotten, override the desired mental image, confusing the mind with unnecessary detail.

But if it were possible to unfold them properly, if these segments of actions could be harvested – and not simply from one mind, but from several and from various moments throughout space – one could actually piece together a multipart scenario from them. Draw in a collection of fractions and replay them, almost like scooping a handful of time and scattering it upon the floor – the tiny instances rolling around like marbles; knocking into one another as they rolled about, some merging through links of kinship and progeny, some remaining whole. Thoughts meandering curiously, like scenes in a film or particles of acts from a play. Soliloquies. Monologues. Memories. Each of them integral, each of them highly personal. Expository. Look in as though viewing a slide and see... See...

Greed.

Pacing between the windows of the top study.

He'd heard something outside. No, more than heard, he didn't simply use his ears anymore. Homunculi were above that, their senses bordering on animalistic perfection. Instead he listened with his nose, tested the air, felt about, jerking his chin slightly to catch any unfamiliar patterns hiding within the general plethora of scents in the garden.

_(Yes... )_

There'd been someone. Though the golden afternoon silence shook its drowsy head and vetoed the idea, there _had_been. He knew. An imprint of another body watermarked the setting; only Greed could not pick who it was. Homunculus, maybe, or at least something non-human. Scents of the artificial like Chimera and Homunculi were easier to recognize than those of their creator's pattern, their trademarks and characteristics nearly pulsing like phosphorus before the right detecting equipment. Mortals smelled of meat, of flesh and warmth. The half-beasts, though just as disposable, were tainted by the unmistakeable sour, burnt smell of alchemy along with the waft of musk and fur or the damp coolness of scales. Homunculi were diverse in their perfume. They were sharp to the nose. Pungent. Obvious. Different, but definite.

_This_ smell though. This particular scent was a step aside from all three categories and though it _moved_ it was similar to a static item, as if a piece of furniture had gone for an afternoon stroll. Ridiculous analogy, yes, but the closest. And what bugged Greed to no end was the fact that the smell was _familiar_– he'd known it once, been intrigued by it before. It was... something. Someone.

_(Perfume?)_

Half-abseiling out the window in order to get a better idea of who or what had wandered onto his property, the Sin was suddenly aware of _another_ balm drifting past his nose, this one almost the opposite of the first obscure tattoo. Blood assailed his senses - sharp and intrusive. Salt.

_(Homunculus...)_

Rocking back on his heels, away from the sash frame, Greed strode purposefully toward the other end of the room, floorboards gulping up the cushioned clump of his shoes. He made it halfway across before he froze and swore dramatically, whirling back to face the first window. The afternoon sky beyond regarded him calmly through its shaggy clouds while Greed's temper ignited - literally throwing sparks into his eyes. How _maddening_, it seemed as soon as he moved, the strange scent grew faint and dissipated against the atmosphere. It was taunting him, _damn__it_and he wasn't too keen on letting it go yet. Not when he was curious to find out what it was. Perplexing situations attracted Greed – his want for knowledge and exposition was almost as overwhelming as his need for physical commodities. And to let something _go_when it was in his grasp? He may as well have attached pegs to his nipples and walked through a marsh naked with his body slicked in honey.

Greed let clipped hiss file his teeth, his gaze tennis-balling between the two opposing portals before he bounded back to the window, deciding the mystery smell was much more important. After all, the scent of the Homunculus could simply be the lingering fragrance of the house's previous tenants, for they _had_been very long-term. It could even be emulating from _himself_. He wasn't accustomed to Envy's salty scent yet, despite wearing his power for over two months and it snuck up on him sometimes. Made him feel as though he was being watched.

_(Stupid.__No__one__but__the__brat__knows__I'm__here.__And__there's__not__a__lot_he _can__do__about__it...)_

Greed thrust his head outside and took in a healthy snort of air, but it was to no avail. The clue had gone, vanished, replaced by the fresh whiff of pine and pollen. Face chiselling annoyance, another brief flurry of expletives corroded the pretty tranquillity of the back lawn and the Homunculus shoved himself away from the window again, grumbling. It _was_ possible he had been imagining things – changes in season could often confuse even the veteran homunculi's nose and since summer was now throwing on a red overcoat in preparation for autumn, the bouquet of the forest was remodelling to suit. Yet the _impression_that someone had been on his turf still remained. And bit like a bug.

Of course, Greed did not feel threatened in any way by the unknown - quite the opposite. His veins pumped with the hungry anticipation of a revived titan. He felt as though he could take on anyone, any _thing_, in his new form - the additional skill and sustenance Envy had supplied to his old powers increased his strength tenfold. He felt faster. He _was_faster. Stronger. _Better._ The older Homunculus had _indeed_possessed more stamina than he; and though Greed himself was the one who had taught him how to manipulate and utilize his abilities in the few, tentative times when they _weren't_at each other throats, Envy had never _really_comprehended the pure force and drive he possessed. His own personal hatred and sin blinded him. Took over and handicapped his powers at a level he felt comfortable using. Greed concluded that his brother hadn't furthered his exploration of the full extent of his abilities as it had probably frightened him. Distracted him. Made him lose sight toward his principal goal.

Children were like that – had all the attention span of a dead newt.

(You could have been great. Under me, you could have been better than great. But you slipped up, my boy. Tried to be just that little bit smarter. And look at where it got you!)

Greed licked his teeth slowly, cutting his tongue a little as it grazed over the rigid, sharp protrusions in his mouth. The pain was deliberate, exquisite and he felt a welcome tug in the crotch of his tight trousers as the thought of his poor brother, beaten, bloody and shivering in the cellar fuelled the Sin's rather tasteless, overactive imagination - which in turn took the incentive to start screwing his hopeful libido. It was a fact that Homunculi could feel nothing during procreation and thus did not bother to indulge. But for what a body lacks, a memory can provide and as Tucker believed he could animate his husk-shell of a daughter through the recollection of her dead soul alone, Greed could certainly conjure the feeling of an explosive, shattering orgasm._That_was easy – especially to someone who'd been known to ravage an entire orchestra of young aristocrats in an evening, then turned around to head back to the beginning for seconds. In his earlier days, Greed had put shame to even the most bourgeois of playboys – making them feel about as sexually driven as an anatomically incorrect Ken doll.

_(God, those were the good days. Tits and ass a-plenty and all for me... )_

Greed chuckled to himself as he left the room and started down the stairs – the incident of the alien scent now obsolete in light of his fervour for a taste of Envy's human body. Distraction was a keen tool – magpies and mirrors, voyeurs and bright, young things – and it clouded Greed's mind with aphrodisia. He found himself debating excitedly whether he should bathe the boy, or take him as was – dirt, filth and all. Easy answer. Greed whistled a cheerful ditty as tugged in pleasurable discomfort at the zip of his pants. Easy answer to a cheap question -appearance didn't matter to him, desire did. Fulfilment was arguable since he _was_Greed, but he decided to ignore his primal instincts for a period and bloody well _get__some._ Envy may not look his best and happened to be in an incredibly odd shape at the current moment, yet Greed felt his hard, round stomach only made him _more_alluring. At least he'd put some weight on his body, rather than sporting only a swollen _head_ as he'd been accustomed to back in the day.

Of course, a little extra meat overall wouldn't have gone unnoticed, but Greed chided himself playfully for being fastidious. After all, this _was_Envy, this _was_the only person he'd ever _really_wanted to fuck but physically couldn't. The boy might have suffered the humiliation of being an inadequate son who could barely scrabble up the bare minimum of attention from his ornery Mother to appease his juvenile need for acceptance, but Greed had been victim to a torture far worse than any identity crisis.

Sexual frustration – that got you _right_by the balls, if you had them.

And now... now he had a chance to release it. Envy could not run from him, he could not fight him. He'd have to simply sit back and take it – perhaps whine, maybe scream a little, something like that. And the best thing about it? It had been the brat's fault in the first place. Greed's very existence was dominated by obsession, and if Envy hadn't supplied him with one...

Carbon black, nodular fists pulsed metrically as the Homunculus crossed the foyer, their fingers itching to dig into the pale skin that had been unveiled for his pleasure (pain) over two hundred years ago when Envy had transformed into what he claimed was _really_himself.

_(He started it...)_

And Greed's attraction was still as strong. The form had been—still _was_ beautiful, and the thought of breaking the mind inside it intensely appealing. He grinned wider, a tiger shark approaching a set of bare swimmers legs with the intention of biting down hard, lazily, the scent of the blood-frenzy already in his nose – an imprint of the ecstasy to come. Greed nosed the door open, the shark disengaged his jaw and he looked down to see...

_The boy._

_Envy._

_Lying__stretched__out__over__his__mother's__bed,__the__covers__rumpled__and__inviting.__He__appeared__nonchalant__and__casual__as__he__sprawled,__though__Greed__could__tell__the__positioning__of__his__body__had__taken__quite__the__amount__of__thought__and__he'd__wager__on__Envy__easily__spending__over__an__hour__preening__and__arranging__himself__for__this__very__juxtaposition.__The__boy_wasn't _Pride__of__Vanity,__yet__the__arrogance__of__youth__was__still__fresh__in__him,__the__evidence__clear__in__his__choice__of__form._

_And what a form it was..._

_(Bastard...)_

_Cognisance__wormed__through__his__mind,__threading__like__angry__green__ivy,__as__he__stared__down__at__Envy's__new,__delightful__guise,__while__another__part__of__him__salivated__hungrily__at__the__mouth__of__desire.__The__little__shit,__he'd__done__it__on__purpose.__His__research__into__his__form__was__veritably__plagiarized__from__Greed's__collection__of__erotic__anecdotes;__influences__from__the__classical__androgyne__so__revered__by__Greed's__intellectual__class__were__distinctly__apparent__in__its__foundation.__He'd__created__something__else__for__Greed__to__want,__to__crave__ – __an__appetizer__for__a__dish__he_knew_he'd__never__get__to__stick__his__fork__into.__Certainly,__it__was__a__better__trick__than__his__previous__attempts,__but__for__Envy's__jealousy__over__his__mother's__attraction__to__drive__him__to_this_level__of__deception?__He__really_didn't _have__anything__else__left__to__live__for..._

_(Poor sod. You have no idea what you're playing with…)_

_"You look a little different," Greed stated carefully, wedging his hands in his pockets - a feat that was humorously more difficult than it sounded. "You done something with your hair?"_

_The boy on the bed, no longer a pot-bellied, gangly preteen with sick, sunken eyes and wan complexion, let a slow, teasing smile stretch a pair of full, pink lips. For an instant, the slick, heated tip of a tongue outlined the display of even, pearly teeth before it disappeared and Envy posed again. Obviously he was quite pleased with his accomplishment, despite the flippancy of its target audience and he had no qualms in letting his brother know how delightful it felt to be in it... The long body - a harmonized vision of smooth, pale skin clashing dangerously, boldly against dark, brackish hair and colourful eyes – was clothed in rather an odd style of uniform. Showy, brash, almost ridiculous in its similarity to a circus performer's outfit, though the way in which the tight black material stretched cleverly against his sculpted torso had a very definite intentional effect._

_Tugging unconsciously at his seemingly shrinking trousers, Greed studied the model form again, mildly disappointed that Envy had chosen to place a loose loincloth over his groin so that the crotch of his snug-fitting shorts was hidden. Adolescent prudence shined through, no matter how brazen the act. And most certainly, finding out the mystery of his gender would be a delightful exercise._

_Only, anything to do with gratifying his brother's appetite for flesh was definitely not included on Envy's agenda. Understandably, Envy's idea of 'fun' was the exact opposite._

_"Such__sweet__things__you__say."__The__Shape__shifter__replied__silkily,__giving__one__last,__acrobatic__stretch__before__he__vaulted__abruptly__off__bed,__slinking__towards__the__doorway__with__all__the__grace__of__a__poet's__quill.__"Perhaps__sometime__I__should__let__you__see__what_else _I've__done."__He__pushed__past,__letting__his__smooth,__naked__thigh__brush__Greed's__bare__wrist__before__he__peered__haughtily__over__his__shoulder,__adding.__"If__you're__nice__to__me."_

_(If__you're..._fucking _bastard...)_

_Fun, oh yes. Envy was having fun. It had taken a lot of careful planning and thought, but Envy was now having a lot of fun, knowing that he had succeeded. The androgynous form, created from a mishmash of lovers both Greed and Dante had entertained for a time was made for distraction - to keep the Shark man away from his mother and vice versa. He'd later provided the explanation that he'd required a new form to start his new life, and the others had to agree that the birth of the guise was clearly the metaphor of the burial of his old body and the debilitating memories that it contained. Yet Greed knew better. Distraction and deception were Envy's key tools and he was learning to use them artfully. His true pain, though, his old life, he'd never forget. Running ahead of his past would keep it at bay for a time, but eventually it would catch up to him._

_And__Greed__wanted__him._How_he__wanted__him.__The__marble__skin,__described__thus__for__it__was__as__cold,__would__haunt__the__Homunculus__for__many__centuries__to__come,__though__for__the__moment,__for__the__short__time__they__were__on__the__same__side,__Greed__had__savoured__it,__imagined__its__texture__and__taste,__conjured__the__image__of__it__slicked__in__sweat__and__heady__sex.__He__knew,__even__if__he_could _indulge,__Envy's__resistance__was__necessary.__There__was__no__point__in__chasing__after__something__freely__given,__he__wouldn't__be__following__his__name__and__vindication__wasn't__a__sin__as__far__as__he__was__aware._

_Yet__by__learning__and__encouraging__his__true__nature,__Envy__might__become__a__powerful__weapon.__And__with__Greed__to__thank__for__it,__a__powerful__weapon__in_his _possession.__So,__instead__of__fighting__him,__chasing__the__boy__about__with__his__pants__round__his__ankles,__Greed,__much__to__Envy's__attractive__confusion,__appeased__him__awhile.__Helped__him.__Taught__him.__Showed__him__the__correct__way__to__wield__a__knife,__then__a__sword,__then__a__gun.__Allowed__his__armadillo__skin__to__be__used__as__a__sandbag__while__Envy's__kicks__became__stronger,__his__punches__faster__and__his__general__aim__increasing__in__precision.__And__finally,__much__to__Dante's__disgruntled__opposition,__he__let__him__loose.__On__everyone__and__every__thing._

_Killing blunted the edge of the boy's inner turmoil and Envy took to mass genocide like a duck to water. His abilities sharpened, as did his hatred. Humanity, something he'd once been hesitant to destroy, suddenly became mere toys for him to crush and he viewed their reasoning and social conduct with nihilistic ignorance – concluding that if they were so keen to put an end to themselves, he may as well assist. He dubbed them stupid and inferior, letting his disdain at their mistakes cover the truth behind his own, ridiculously prolonged, temper-tantrum._

_Envy proclaimed he was rehearsing for the reunion with his father. Had justified his actions by convincing himself that the weak humans should die so the Homunculi could take their place. Greed knew that there was certainly part of him that didn't believe it, there was that lingering ghost of mortal conscience in all of them. He knew that the killing, like running away, wouldn't prove a sufficient outlet in the end, but why worry when his scriptures were being so voraciously devoured? No one can stop an apocalypse – God's will burns out on its own._

_And__when__it__did,__he'd__be__there__to__pick__up__what__was__left.__What__he__could__then__claim__as_his. _He'd__have__to__wait__nearly__three__centuries,__of__course,__but__being__'dead'__for__a__good__chunk__of__that__time__calmed__his__impatience__greatly.__After__all,__it's__better__to__eat__ice__cream__after__the__long,__hot__summer__day__is__over,__rather__than__begin__with__a__chilled__stomach.__And__oh,__it__had__been__a__long__day,__a__very,_very _long__day__for__which__Envy__was__going__to__exempt.__Greed__would__fuck__him__til__he__was__bleeding,__then__he'd__do__it__again__just__to__see__the__exotic__flash__of__excruciation__over__those__perfect__features__a__second__time.__That__was__how__he__would__pay__ – __that__was__the__price__of__his__brother's__release__after__so_many _of__those__century-long__days.__And__he__would__learn__that__Greed__was__not__one__to__dangle__a__carrot__in__front__of__ – __sooner__or__later__someone's__fingers__would__be__bitten__off._

_(That little turd, I'll show him how much a three hundred year old stiffie can hurt…)_

Hurt...

Hurt so bad he could barely see though the haze of pain.

Envy huddled over himself, crouching, pressing the crown of his head into the grime as he bit down hard on a small sliver of wood he'd managed to wrench off the crate. Sweat tore down his face in thick channels, cutting through the patches of dried mud and blood. His heavy, panting breath sawed about the cellar walls, a welcome change from the stifled screams that preceded the onset of another contraction. The beseechingly thin form, wrapped protectively round the bulge of life protruding from it's middle, trembled as it gasped for air and though Envy drew in as much as he could in each wearisome breath, it seemed as though he'd never get enough. His vision swam, fading in and out like camera lens unable to focus.

_(H-hurts... )_

Something had broken inside him. There'd been a snapping sensation, a crack. It was a bit like the pop he'd heard earlier when his doppelganger's vertebrae split beneath his roping fingers, while at the same time it was also the grinding of his own bones as Dante wrestled his twisted skeleton into some semblance of Homo Sapiens with all the gusto of a chiropractor gone insane. A bit of the former, a lot of the latter, though _mostly_, it was implicit feeling of a tree trunk being shattered by a claw of white-hot lightening. The suddenness of it surprised him, frightened him, yet even worse was the oozing slickness that came after the initial agony. He didn't like that at _all._ It was oily, wet. Bloody. The word 'complications' clanged in his mind and while his overexerted imagination supplied some particularly gruesome images, he nearly hyperventilated in fear until shock took over, numbed, and the pain dulled. Envy groaned, dimly aware of a throbbing sensation as blood and fluid raced to the accident sight – keen to assess and tend to the internal injury.

It was in his hips. He'd thought (somehow, somewhere, in a moment that seemed almost entirely crisp and clear and completely out of context with his current plight) that the cr... the _crunch_ might have been some degree of damage to his back. But by the way the pain escalated at his attempts to move his right leg, he quickly surmised, with all his threadbare anatomical knowledge, that the downward progression of the child-heavy womb had acted just as the Doctor predicted. The baby had dropped low inside him and vice-like, the ball of muscle and membrane thrust open the narrow channel of his iliac bones, placing tremendous pressure on the hugging arms of pubis. And there was only so much a shard of compressed calcium and collagen can take. The tiny channels of stress fracture that had gradually developed, running like veins through the brittle bone, splintered with a nauseous _crick,_forcing an elasticity of cartilage seldom present in a male pelvis.

The baby dropped low, ready to be born. And Envy could do nothing but wait until it killed them both.

_(Remember, you cannot deliver the baby on your own, you will need professional care.)_

His breath wheezed in rasps though his clenched teeth, fingers pressing shallow indents against the tight skin of his belly that was sticky with sweat and mud. He'd unbuttoned his shirt a little in attempt to massage the ripping pain from the tensing abdominal muscles, but his implemented biological clock, the timepiece that reigned over his body's 'female' instincts, had already begun rolling down the steep slope of inevitability and his convulsing muscles responded to his ministrations by simply clenching harder. It hurt. Everything hurt, it seemed that was all he'd been reduced to, one big physical personification of _fucking_hurt.

_(Make it stop... someone... I can't take this... )_

The chill of the cellar, the stench and the gooey feeling of the mud on the floor had all been forgotten as Envy coughed and gasped, rolling about in the swill as agony razored over his gut. By now he was a complete mess, though he didn't care a bit about it. In fact, he hadn't even noticed - his narcissism having dissolved completely after his perfect form had swollen such an obtuse distension he felt as though he was the model image of a lower-case letter 'b'. Instead he was nervous. Frightened even. The stress and pain had anchored to his carnal fears and he was too exhausted to bother reprimanding himself for being weak. No, he had to save his strength. The baby was much more important than his own self-centered insolence. For although the pain was bad enough to tear his mind apart, Envy knew he had to downplay his terrible discomfort in front of Greed. Especially if he wanted to live. For Greed would...

He'd...

Envy shook his head sadly, whining as the mud gave beneath his forehead as he struggled to find, for the millionth time, a comfortable position.

_(To die in...)_

He'd gone over countless repetitions of the future outcome of his predicament in the frantic moments he'd been blessedly devoid of Greed's company and had, time after time, broken his options down to two simple propositions. He could either:

a) Die quickly by alerting Greed to his labour, therefore basically inviting the Homunculus to take a knife to his guts or:

b) Die slowly, hiding his condition as he waited in tormented patience for an unlikely rescuer.

Of course, Envy had purposefully ruled out the possibility of actually _being_ rescued, for he reasoned that, if one appears set for death, then surely the Fates would swoop in on gallant horses (or at least as gallant a horse as a blind old lady would ride) and deliver him from it. So to speak. Surely if one is knowledgeable and accepting of the inevitable, some deviser of the universal Murphy would counteract his decision. After all, it had happened before, though he couldn't _quite_ remember if he had been completely acceding toward his death the first time around. He didn't really want to know. The little blond boy of so many years ago was hidden deeper than he could imagine, mummified in binds of autobiographical propaganda and disgust. If he unwrapped them... he wasn't sure he could handle facing what he'd diligently concealed over so long.

Because now he'd changed... Now he...

_(I'm human... At least that's what I think Greed had been trying not to say...)_

Envy hadn't really given it a second thought the moment Greed's tongue slipped, but the comment gummed on the back of his mind and hung there, waiting to be pondered over. Greed had said something about a soul, hadn't he? He_could_ have meant the baby, but Envy got the impression he'd been referring to something else, with all the typical Greed-subtlety of a sledgehammer. Two souls gave life and breath to a third, wasn't that how conception worked? Not in the general scientific terms of course, but in the mystical enigma of the creation of the spirit. If he hadn't had a soul, then would the baby have been created anyway?

If he _had,_ then where had it come from? How did he get it? Dante had been so sure her Homunculi did not contain the human supernatural tattoo and Greed had proved that the artificial humans were not offered the rights of passage into the afterlife, instead forced to survive in a kind of limbo consciousness about the Gate. It didn't make sense.

And _if_ he had, why was he given a second chance? What had he done to deserve it? Why would the Sin Envy be dealt a free hand in the game of existence - why give someone like himself such a mighty and terrible gift? Sure nice guys finish last but was the prize for the baddies a second shot at redeeming themselves? Was that supposed to be a joke? Would he be given the right answer if he completed the rest of the test? He'd been a pinnacle of all things monstrous, a hazard to humanity, a complete and utter_bastard_ and he'd been _good_ at it. He'd been happy – or at least pathological killers' version of happy. That was what he was, what he'd become was something else completely the opposite and not at all formidable on any scale.

Envy had to admit, the taste of mortality was a breath from a new perspective, but he didn't like being on the wrong end of the dark horse. The unknown bothered him – especially when his physical form was in on the play. He'd despised it at first of course, cursing every moment he spent in his bloated, sweating, smelly, hot, needy body. Hating everyone that knew and wishing that the nagging voice in the foreground of his mind would quit convincing him not to kill the people that put food on his plate. But now... now it was hurting him, actively causing him pain. Humans had to put up with this, their bodies could betray them just as their peers could. And there was shit-all they could do about it. How unfair. How _real._

_Homunculi and humans... Were they really such polar opposites that one reserved the right to succeed the other?_

Envy didn't quite believe in the theory of equivalent trade – he saw it mostly as a constructed human boundary to scare Alchemists into wanting something greater than just the value of what they placed into their transmutation circles – yet he was aware that there was some kind of _price_for wanting. Though he'd previously scoffed at humans for their tenacity toward fighting amongst their own kind, he hadn't completely understood the actual work humans undertook to simply live on a day-to-day basis – battles and war aside.

His thinking had been so similar to that of a child; Mummy makes the bread, Mummy gives me the bread and I am not hungry anymore. However, Mummy made the bread made from the wheat flour that she'd bought with the money that Daddy had earned from working from dawn til dusk. Envy's mind had been stuck on input: receive, receive, receive and because his lust for attention had been cruelly ignored, because he knew nothing better than a child's want, his output was that of the same. He lashed, beguiled and mocked like an immature bully – bent on destruction as it was the only thing to drown the bitter pill.

And he'd continued down that bloody path for many, many years until his own folly forced his unlife into a kind of renaissance and he was reborn with a conscience that _learned_. Humans weren't selfish, as he'd thought; they just had to make do with the lives that had been devised for them by those who had lived before. Life wasn't fair – Mother's dug the graves of their children the moment they were born – and the downward spiral was depressing. Life wasn't equivalent trade – Robin Hood ran off with Nottingham to get married in Disneyland while Marian stayed at home struggling to feed the children. Life wasn't _easy._

But it was beautiful.

Because for the short time you were in it, it was yours.

Perhaps that's why there were the wars... People struggled to get better for themselves so they could give better. They would fight so others wouldn't suffer and they didn't learn because they could never accept defeat. Or death.

_(Like the Ishbalites... And Izumi... And... Ed... Edward... And... )_

Himself, now that he knew.

Envy hiccupped, breath caught between a gasp and a cough, and managed a half-hearted, wobbly smile as his exhausted mind rallied together the last nuances of his strength and stubbornness, coated them with a wadding of self control and shoved them to the front of his brain. Greed had wanted a son, he'd wanted one for a long, long time – almost as much as he'd wanted Envy. And he knew that Greed would stop at nothing to get him. Whether it was supposed to be maternal or paternal instincts that were kicking in, he couldn't abandon his baby, not after he'd worked so hard, not after he'd suffered so much. Some battles he could afford to lose, but not this one. He would hold out for as long as he could help it, stall Greed as best he could. The pain, though he despised it, hated it, was scared to death of it, he'd endure to the very end.

The End...

_End..._

_"It's not the end of the world you know..."_

_She clicked her tongue at him in disapproval – a teacher leaning comically over the desk of a student, cane rapping softly, rhythmically, against the wood. The boy curled up tighter into the mound of blankets on the bed, coughed a little and whimpered, rubbing his sunken belly with slightly puffy, stunted fingers._

_"But I'm always sick, Mama." He pouted, agony he'd gotten used to by that time written on his face and his voice taut and peevish. He was tired of being ill all the time – all the time. "I'd rather be out with Daddy…"_

_"You know your father doesn't like you getting in his way," Dante tapped the side of a medicine bowl briskly with the familiar thick spoon that matched it and her young son shot the utensil a dreadful groan. He hated his medicine spoon. No, not just hated, despised. It was the medium that connected his mouth with the bitter, tingling tonic that his mother forced him to take on a daily basis 'for his health' – though he swore the foul liquid had other plans. Nothing that tasted that bad could be any good, he was sure, despite what was preached about medicine and vegetables._

_The child wrinkled his nose and turned away as Dante carefully poured a goopy measure into the offending utensil and held it out towards him._

_"I'm not getting in his way, I'm helping!"_

_"Ho, is that so?" He wasn't looking at her, but he could hear her eyebrows rising in admonition. "And were you 'helping' when you spilled his purified mercury? It took him months to filter that, you know. Then you went and put it in your mouth..."_

_"I thought it was like aniseed!" the boy whined, retracting further away from the approaching spoon. It was at times like this he wished he had a shell to crawl into – away from her and his bodily pain. "I wasn't trying to…"_

_(... get in the way. It just turned out like that... I didn't mean to hurt anyone – especially me... )_

_"Such a glutton for treats! And now look at you. So ill you can barely get out of bed." Dante's mouth clicked again as the viper tested the air – though her tongue was usually too bright and quick for her son to catch. "What use will you be if you can't do you chores? Those come before any laboratory study, you know this."_

_"But I'm always sick, Mama," he repeated, unable and unwilling to keep the wheedling tone from his voice. "I haven't been feeling good since my leg broked last spring. Nobody comes to visit anymore, no one wants to play with me." He added to the last part an exceptionally pathetic, puddly look, maximizing the power of his huge, heavy-lashed golden eyes. "Please, Mama, I don't wanna take my medicine. It tastes yucky."_

_"You should say 'broke', not 'broked' – and one's leg does not break itself, it gets broken." Dante corrected automatically, a teacher's neat disdain for bad grammar and a mother's will to enforce it. The spoon nodded in agreement, hovering a mere fraction from his lips. "You do as you are told. And what 'nobodies' do you speak of? Even if the neighbourhood children wished to come and see you, you would ignore them and plant your nose in one of your father's alchemy tomes. It's difficult enough to uproot you as it is with a ratty old ledger sprouting from the middle of your face. To think you can only look at the pictures..."_

_"I'd read the words if you'd teach me."_

_"Then you look after the household and the surgery for awhile. Keep yourself occupied with the washing, the cooking and assist your father and let me know when you have the time to teach a daydreaming boy to read."_

_"How can I be a great alchemist if I can't understand my books, Mama?"_

_"You become an apprentice, dear. Isn't that what all the boys your age are doing these days? Or are you too busy with your head in the clouds to notice what's happening down on earth? If you'd've followed the rules you might well be an alchemist by now – it's your own fault. Now drink up."_

_The child dodged the spoon with practiced agility; eyes wide and huge, voice liquored up with sugar and sweetness to keep the tonic at bay long as possible._

_"Couldn't I be Daddy's apprentice, Mama?" He coughed a little unexpectedly and shuddered at the rawness of it. His throat was scratchy and rough beneath the gooey lamination of phlegm – he must have been hacking up a storm in his sleep. "I'm his number one student after all."_

_Despite her child's sunny expression, the woman's face darkened with a scowl behind the impassive facade of motherly pragmatism. Hohenheim Elric already had a number one student, and numero uno wasn't about to drop to numero dos._

_"Your father hasn't time to take you as a ward," She explained, clipping her consonants shy a beat. The spoon pressed mercilessly against his lips. "Now, take your tonic and go back to sleep. Perhaps your father will visit you tonight, I understand he was finishing early."_

_And just as the magic words 'open sesame' revealed the forty thieves' illustrious annuity fund to Ali Baba, Dante's son's mouth cracked a smile, lips rolling back to reveal slightly black-tinted gums, at the thought of a visit from his estranged father and eagerly swallowed the spoonful of thick elixir._

_"Good boy," She whispered as she snuffed the candle at his bedside, her dress whooshing a little as the heavy drape of the material swept the floorboards. But although the little boy held out as long as he could for the appearance of his father, Hohenheim did not come. Instead, the Alchemist was indulging in a little extra 'one on one tutorage' with his favoured pupil. And it was in a rather tongue-in-cheek variable of Alchemy that Envy's predecessor would not find out about until after his death. It then would take another monumental accident and the insemination of his own body for him to actually realize what sex meant._

_After all, number one will always be number one. Dante would never settle for second place. Just as Envy had fallen second to Edward._

Ed...

The Elric boy. If anyone could help Envy, he could. And as far as Lust knew, he was still in Dublith, therefore closer than Dante and her other siblings. The Sin clutched at the small, lead pot she'd removed from Johansson's headstone as instructed and jogged through the streets of the small town, oblivious to the stares at the bouncing contents of the top of her dress.

He wasn't at the house, she'd checked again. In fact this time even the butchery had been closed, so it seemed the entire family was missing. She doubted they were looking for Envy – probably didn't have any idea he was missing – and in turn that would make her search even harder. For really, when they _weren't_ fighting each other or campaigning to fight each other or running like bejesus away from her claws, what did humans do on a regular, day-to-day basis? She had a very general idea from when she monitored the likes of the Tringham's father and Lujon, but that didn't account for everyone.

Lacking any other ideas in particular, Lust decided the town markets seemed the most viable option.

Slowing her bubbly canter to a rather seductive power-walk, Lust began at one end of the stall-encrusted main drag and worked her way down, frantically searching people's faces for a familiar one. She'd never functioned this way before. It had been much easier to sit and wait for the right alchemically obsessed Charlie to some along and practically beg her to threaten their lives for the Philosophers' Stone. Actually trying to seek someone out when you were under a very strict schedule as another's lifespan ticks away made the Sin incredibly nervous. And she'd never actually been nervous before which in turn squeezed her overwrought nerves even tighter.

Lust cursed herself for leaving her brother. Surely she could have at least tried to help him. Greed hadn't seemed that tough when she'd met in the forest on the eve of his death - in fact he'd seemed more dependant on his loyal henchman who protected his worthless life with theirs. How courageous was that? Could he have really come back stronger? That final look he'd given her, that murderous glance before he'd turned to flee, was he like that now? Would he remember? Was he the Greed that Edward had destroyed or was he a new version? Envy had been trying to say something about him – she wished she hadn't interrupted now, for a little, tingling feeling at the back of her neck paced back and forth, fretting that it might have been important.

He came back, Lust mused to herself as she swatted away, for the fourteenth time, a man ecstatically trying to sell her a 'Sausage inna bun', proclaiming the prices of his wares were so low he was basically cutting his own throat. What we knew as 'Greed' has returned from the afterlife – and he must be similar enough to the original to know who Envy was. Not to mention where he was. But we don't come back. Humans... Homunculi... We can't come back can we-

So deep in troubled thought was the Sin as she hopelessly trudged through the maze of stalls, she didn't notice the crouching figure of a man in her path, innocently tying his shoelace. Comically she crashed into him and the pot of stones flew up into the air as she flung her arms out for balance, sailed a few inches then landed dead centre on his crown with a heavy _thwack._

"Oh! I'm so sorry I..." She stopped a moment and frowned.

'Sorry'?_'So_ sorry_'?__Where__on__earth__are__these__laughable__manners__coming__from?)_

Purposefully darkening her expression to counteract the absurd politeness, she continued, giving her hair a cursory flip of mild irritation. "You shouldn't sit in the middle of the road like that! You're obviously in the way and... and uh..."

She stopped _again_, but this time out of sheer shock. The man... he hadn't turned to look at her yet, but his... long blond ponytail... and the way he was muttering under his breath as he rubbed the spot on his head where the heavy container hit him...

_(So__much__like...__so_very _much__like...)_

_True_ he was much bigger and broader and his hands had seemed to balloon to _paws_ since she'd seen him last, but Lust wasn't in the frame of mind to be making rational observations. In her own addled brain, she could very well make the mistake of assuming she'd bumped into-

"Uh,' she attempted in a small voice. "Edward?"

"I'm afraid not," the man grumbled through clenched teeth and turned slowly to face her. Lust's heart sank. Perhaps his hair was the same style, texture and colour and he definitely had similar mannerisms, but he wasn't Ed. Try Ed, bearded, far sighted and with approximately thirty years, and thirty inches tacked on. He smiled a little, and _charmingly_, holding out the lead jar. "But I think, at this moment, I'd like to be."

"Thanks," Lust snapped, swiping the jar from his hand. "But let me tell you, in reality you probably _wouldn't_." She spun on her heel, set to march away as arrogantly as possible, yet the nagging tug in the back of her neck caught her again. He may not have been Edward but... how many people had she ever seen with those fantastic golden eyes. How many _really?_ He just seemed...

_(I should know you...)_

Turning back to the man who was still crouched, watching her intently, she stubbed her heel into the ground and licked her teeth, feeling awkward.

"Er... You wouldn't happen to _know_ an Edward Elric, would you?"

The man's _expensive_ eyes glittered at the question, yet he answered her with nothing but a shrug of a smile, his thin moustache, nothing more than spires of his beard on his upper lip, bucking with the gesture.

"You're from Ishbal, aren't you?"

"Um... No..." Lust replied automatically before curiosity got the better of her. "Well, maybe... Why do you ask?"

"No reason, really," He clambered to his feet and she could see then and there she'd made a definite mistake in assuming this man was Edward Elric. Especially when he towered at least a good head and shoulders above her. "I knew one of you would hail from the East at some point in time."

"One of us?" She shook her head a little. "You mean... One of the..."

Realization went: _'Ooooooh...!'_

_Homunculi..._

But realization happened to be a little too late in it's triumph, for the man had already nodded a genial farewell and had begun plodding back through the typically tightening crowds of consumers who at that _particular_ moment, had decided the stall Lust was next to had something really interesting on it and they all had to have one or they'd just _die._

"Wait!" She called, literally clambering over heads as the wave of bodies attempted to drown her. "You know us! You know! You have to help... Please! Edward, I need E-"

Her plea was cut short as someone shrugged her off and she tumbled into the swarm of limbs surrounding her. Completely disconcerted, she very nearly drew her claws in attempt to make _tartare__humane_ out of the idiots, but as soon as she clenched her fist and growled, the onslaught of people withdrew and once again she was alone, sprawled ungraciously in the dirt with a weedy old man by her ankle, still trying to sell her a sausage.

"Look I don't want food!" She screamed in exasperation, springing to her feet. " I want Edward! That damn Elric boy! And if you turn around and bloody well tell me you _have_ seen him, I'll buy your entire lot of... uh... whatever that's supposed to be," She pointed toward the second rate hotdog. "Alright?"

The Sausage man looked distractedly contemplative, as though hurriedly compiling some kind of lengthy, fraudulent parable, yet Lust's stomach was saved from the painful digestion of at least a kilogram of spiced meat 'product' when one of the stall holders unplugged a smoking dog-end from her mouth and gave a gluey cough.

"Young Edward? Izumi's ward?" A smouldering cigarette butt glowed in the direction of the Railway station. "He was heading for Central, last I heard. In a bit of a rush too..."

"Central?" Lust simply _deflated_. "But that's nearly a day's travel away. I can't be sure if he'll be safe for that amount of time!"

"Oh dear, that's a shame," the stallholder sympathized, albeit absently. "You'll sort it out, though. But in the meantime," she of sun-baked skin and nicotine-sanded voice quirked a crafty eyebrow. "Would you like to buy a trinket or two? Since you made my opposition such a generous offer."

The Sausage man pouted while his fellow tradesperson cackled in a caricatured way no being younger than sixty could possibly imitate.

"Oh God," Lust groaned as she eyed the contents of the crone's stock. "Oh _God..."_

She'd said.

He'd said. She'd heard..

_She heard... He'd whispered-_

_"Oh God,"_

_to himself as he stood in front of a full-length mirror, poking forlornly at the bottom of his stomach. Dante hadn't told her to spy and Lust hadn't meant to either – spying was such a blunt way to put it. But she had been watching him. Observing. Especially after the rumour about... about the child. About him being... pregnant..._

_'No, surely not!' She'd said, like they'd all said, flippantly rejecting the idea from behind the safety of a closed door. The notion was purely ridiculous - the Homunculi may not be humans but they were aware of which gender did what. Boys didn't have babies. Dead, artificial boys certainly didn't... And that seemed a pretty standard rule._

_Only, Lust had had to admit, her eldest brother had been acting differently as of late - subdued, if not secretive to say the very least. None of the Homunculi had seen much of him and rather than staying at the head of the group, overseeing the investigations with the air of arrogance that only Dante's number one henchman could exhume, he hid himself away, skulking in the dark, musty rooms throughout the underground manor._

_She'd though little of it at first, but even thinking was enough to act as an aperitif to her eager curiosity. So she sought him out and soon found him, tugging up the waistband of his loincloth with a most peculiar expression manipulating his features. Worry? Fear perhaps... Lust unconsciously pushed the door of the little study open and found she was indeed so disengaged from her actions, that Envy's look of surprise at being discovered genuinely startled her._

_"I-I was just..." she was stuttering, unnerved. How interesting._

_Envy,__despite__his__mysterious__past,__she__found__she__could__connect__with.__Deal__with.__It__wasn't__any__grand__convention__of__character__on__her__part,__more__so__he_let_her.__Though__she__was__nearly__three__hundred__years__his__junior,__Lust__just__seemed__to__gel__with__Envy__like__his__siblings__never__had.__He__trusted__her,__or__perhaps,__he__simply__didn't__hate__her.__She__wasn't__sure__why,__but__that__was__the__case._

_Turning to face her, she saw his violet eyes were wild, feline pupils mere pinpoints of distress._

_"She's right."_

_"W-who is?"_

_"Dante."_

_"About what?" She knew. She knew full well of what he was ascertaining to, but the clarification seemed almost necessary to prove it to the both of them._

_"I'm..." Envy couldn't say anymore, only hung his head a little, rubbing his stomach slowly. Lust edged carefully into the room and stood beside him, in front of the mirror. Already she could see his skin colour had changed slightly, his cheeks sported a ghost of a tawny mantle and the same colour dusted modestly over the rest of his skin. It was nice, sort of, real. Human._

_And he smelled... good._

_But said cheeks were also sunken and drawn and he was shivering uncontrollably. That blush, Lust quickly concurred, was not from the glow of expectant health but the by-product of a growing fever. Envy's breath was heavy, weighted by the effort it took for his lungs to respire – assimilating the oxygen from the air into a state his blood could accept. He didn't take in breath like a Homunculus, for they only mimicked the action. No, he was physically breathing, he truly needed the cocktail of oxygen, nitrogen and hydrogen in his body, he didn't just have to pretend like a child sipping make believe tea from an empty cup._

_"It's making you mortal," Lust breathed. "Why?"_

_"Do you think I know?" Envy's long, straggly tails swayed gently as he gently shook his head. "It's alive, a living thing. Perhaps it can't survive in a dead body."_

_"Perhaps" Lust agreed._

_"I hate it," Envy whimpered, resting his head lightly on Lust's shoulder. "I hate me and I hate this."_

_"You shouldn't."_

_Envy sighed._

_"I don't feel well..."_

A stone in one's shoe can be annoying.

As can a hole in one's sock or a broken strap on one's sandal.

A foot in one's shoe can also be annoying, especially when said appendage has been travelling for no less than five hours encased in a sweat-sodden sock and held prisoner within a rough leather boot of whose creased, slacking heel had already pinched the back of Ed's ankle into a swollen landscape of lanced blisters and raw patches of rubbing. At first Ed hadn't noticed the pain, he was far too intent on rushing headlong toward Dublith, as fast as his petite gait could manage. But after awhile, admittedly much longer than someone whose sensitivity to injury was far greater than that of a brick, he couldn't stand it anymore. The burning, needle-like rawness shooting up from his skinned heels only made his tired knees buckle in fatigue. His lungs felt like a pair of poor stretched and wrinkled balloons found behind the couch, three weeks after a birthday party and his heart was panting, desperate to keep up with his physical exertion and the strain of worry.

It was then that Al, barely missing a beat, caught his brother in a running tackle and, swinging him onto a huge, couch-sized shoulder, proceeded to sprint the rest of the way to Dublith. Though Ed wasn't exactly comfortable sitting precariously atop a taxi who's unpredictable movement was on par with that of a runaway washing machine, he really wished he'd thought of asking Al for a lift earlier as it was certainly a much more practical way to cover ground. He felt a little silly, of course, his brotherly pride slipping several notches as Al proved, even in a non-human form to think rationally and carefully beyond even Ed's years, but his embarrassment was pushed to the back of his mind as his agitation mounted leg upon wavering leg.

_(Envy... )_

He wasn't sorry. He _couldn't_ be sorry – that would imply he'd done something wrong and he hadn't. He hadn't. He'd just... reacted. As he was sure any boy would when their worst enemy all but confesses their undying love minus the special effects of balconies, flowers and spouts of poetry. Oh no, statutory groping was much higher on the list than those.

_(Reacted. Yeah, that's all it was. And all I'm going to do now is go settle the score. Make sure he knows where he stands with me. I'm not an ogre... but I'm not... What do they call it? Gay? Yeah... Batting for the same team and whatnot. I'm not even sure if I'm batting for a team... I doubt I'm even on the plate!)_

It made him blush to think of it. Hell, the blush _branded_ him. Ed wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, or even if it did mean anything, he was so deep in though he'd completely forgotten he was taking one of the worlds fastest piggybacks and nearly severed his tongue as his mouth lazed open in contemplation. Of course, with such a reaction, his hands flew to his face. And _since_ his hands had been anchoring him to his brother, naturally when he released his grip, Al's bouncing motion caused him to fly backwards and he landed badly, his head cracking against the path as he rolled a couple of times. Alphonse skidded to a halt and back-pedalled quickly, crouching down at the pile of older brother who was huddled in the dirt, clutching the back of his head - seemingly mumbling in tongues.

Only his version of glossolalia contained curse words.

"Nii-san, are you ok?" Alphonse cocked his head a little after the tumult had ended. "You shouldn't let go like that!"

"It wasn't my _intention_," Ed groaned, massaging beneath his sunny pigtail. "I forgot where I was for a second."

"Well, as long as you didn't hit your head too hard," The tinny voice was chock-full of metallic concern, yet Ed scowled at the playful tone that danced upon the edge of it.

"Yeah, yeah," He sat up, still buffing his skull. "Hey...are we on the outskirts of Dublith already?"

"Uh huh!" Al nodded proudly. "I was going to stop just after the town border, but you went and fell off."

"I didn't go and..." Ed stopped, his irritation fading as anxiety slipped into the front seat. "Al, we shouldn't be stopping!"

"I know," the metal boy levered up again, patiently holding Ed's luggage as his brother fought for balance, swinging like a pendulum as his head refused to acknowledge any affiliation with gravity. "Are you worried about Envy, Nii-san?"

_(Reacted... And they're taking the baby... )_

It was the first time they'd really spoken since the Alchemist had sped off, southbound, along the debilitated tracks, but Al knew his brother's urgency was linked back to the Sin. Indeed, the younger brother himself was worried enough about Envy even without the possibility of a Homunculus in the works - he'd been looking so beat and tired the last couple of days Al had been apprehensive to leave him. But he was in Izumi's care right? What could go wrong?

"I-I don't..." Edward started to shake his head, but something caught his attention out the corner of his eye and he stopped. Stared. His eyes grew wide as saucers and he choked.

Then, despite the grimness of the situation, cracked up laughing.

A figure was hurrying toward them, tripping a little over its own high-heeled feet in its haste. It was Lust, well, at least part of it was. The rest appeared to be some kind of tottering conglomeration of millefiori beads, paper fans and odds and ends of colourful scarves all topped off with a squalid furry hat, complete with ear flaps and a little plastic pin in the shape of a waving cat.

"Lust?" Ed gasped incredulously. "Is that you?"

"It's not funny," she snapped as she approached them, flinging off various paraphernalia faster than a cheap whore strapped for time does her panties. "And it's not important either. Edward you have to come... It's-"

"Envy," Ed finished for her, narrowing his eyes. "What did you do to him? Why did you sabotage the train?"

"Why did I...what?" Lust frowned, mystified, absently flinging off baubles. "I didn't do anything to the train!"

"Then why are the tracks north of the main road skewed worse than this damn predicament you guys threw me into! We had to run for hours! What the hell is going on?"

"I didn't-"

"There were scratch marks in the ground by the warped bits, Lust-san," Al explained, twisting his huge fingers together fretfully. "We were just assuming..."

"Scratch marks?" She shook her head and a few beads went flying. "Not mine... I didn't take the train that far South I..." Lust glanced from Ed to Al, then back again, before her feline pupils capsized with sinking comprehension. "Greed... He had claws, I remember ... it was Greed, he must have known you were liable to come back."

"Greed?" Edward's eyebrows seesawed in disbelief. "Lust, Greed's _dead."_

"No he's back! Envy said he's back! And he's strong. Something about having extra powers..." Lust bit her lip. "I couldn't smell him though. I could only smell Envy..."

"Smell? You can smell each other?" Al's voice was thin and perturbed. Ed stopped scowling and started to gape, his face practically sliding into the new arrangement.

"Of course, how else would we find each other to rendezvous?"

"But you could only trace Envy," Ed said carefully as if deciphering a clue. "It couldn't have been... Envy's not a Homunculus anymore."

This time it was the Sin's turn to be incredulous.

"He's not... how?" Lust's full lips fluttered a few times, mouthing fragments of befuddlement. "Is he human?"

"I don't think so," Ed shrugged. "He didn't seem to know himself. But he... did something with the gate... he used Alchemy. I can't fathom how he managed to do it, but he did..."

"He..." Lust blinked dumbly. "B-but we can't!"

"That's what I _thought_," Ed replied "But it goes to show he really _has_ changed. He summoned the gate, used Al's and my old notes that we'd hidden in our room. He actually_opened_ the thing...

"And what?" The Homunculus gulped, weaving her fingers together nervously.

"What do you think? He tried to swap the baby for his powers."

The woman's skin may have already been ashen, but Lust visibly drained at Ed's words. She looked at the brothers again, from one to the other, then back.

"H-he was okay though, the baby I mean," Alphonse added briskly, waving his hands a little. "He was fine!"

"E-envy..." She croaked in reply.

"He was fine too. Well we _thought_ he was until he ended up, uh" Edward coughed. "Giving... birth to something."

"Buh?" Lust repeated, her eyes glazing over in shock.

"Yeah... He um..." Ed shrugged again, exchanging the positions of his hands beneath his elbows. "He said it was himself.. the Homunculus in him. He said that he'd probably die once the baby was born because he's not... anything anymore. Not human, not Homunculus."

"But if he didn't die then something's keeping him alive!" Lust argued. "He must be human! What happened to the... the... product?"

"I'm not sure, Izumi took care of it." Ed scratched at the side of his face. Actually... he really _didn't_ know – he'd been far too busy caring for the catatonic Sin to even notice what happened to the bloody little pile of parts. "She might have buried it..."

"No," Lust took in a deep breath. Whether she needed it or not didn't seem to matter. "She didn't. That woman put it into the gate. She put it in the gate and it came out as Greed."

The Elrics were silent a moment, staring with eyes like doubloons.

"L-like Wrath came out? By himself..." Al stuttered in stuck-engine staccato. "Greed-san was able to come back?"

"That's impossible," Ed breathed, ignoring the respectful suffix his brother had automatically attached. "If he can return, why can't humans? Why doesn't Body Alchemy work?"

"Perhaps it has something to do with souls," Lust reasoned. "Because our astral bodies have already departed this world it may be a case of just opening up the right door again."

"The door can be opened from both sides," Al mused. "So if you aren't dead behind it, you can get out."

"If you have the key. That must have been something to do with Envy's Homunculus... If he had stones... If he was reborn..."

"But are you sure?" Ed interrupted, eyeing Lust carefully. "Did actually _see_ him? Greed?"

"I didn't, no," She admitted. "But as I said, I _smelt_him. Although I _thought_ it was Envy, it must have been Greed. His scent had changed, he smelt new..."

"New?"

"Er... Fresher..." Lust stumbled for accurate descriptions, gesticulating a little. "Like blood. It's hard to explain, but believe me, he was different."

"I guess that explains Greed then," Ed said, now chewing a fingernail. "I don't understand why didn't you stay with him, though. Why didn't you try to rescue him if you knew he was in danger?"

"I should have," Lust hung her head, guiltily, the lasting hairpins and beads clicking in despair. "I wanted to, but he wouldn't let me. He said I needed backup. He said Greed was near-unbeatable even though he'd only just come out of the gate."

"He did?" he pressed his lips together firmly. It was just like Envy to refuse aid, but it wasn't like him to send the aid _back_ in concern for their life. That meant he _really_ was in trouble... right? "What's that in your hand?"

"Incomplete stones, I think," she glanced at the object. "Apparently Greed was looking for them."

"He's strong, but he wants to become stronger?"

"Greed-san said he wanted everything, Nii-san," Alphonse supplied, gently. "He is greedy. He was nice, well, reasonable when I met him. I just thought he wanted freedom."

"You aren't wrong," Lust nodded. "But because he rebelled against our Master, that was taken away from him. Now that he's back, he has his liberty..."

"And the strength to know he doesn't have to hide his reappearance." Ed finished. "Where were they?"

"At the old manor, same place you... uh... finished him off."

"You saw Envy too, was he alright?"

"I don't think so, he looked like he was in alot of pain," Lust said in a quiet voice, hair falling into her eyes. "I should have stayed."

"You should have," Edward began, before he gave an agitated shake and sprinted off, gung-ho towards the forest, his tired limbs rejuvenated by angry concern. It was the second time that day that the Alchemist had taken off without a word. And it was the second time that Al simply just chased him, without needing explanation, Lust fast on his heels. Their mission was already clear and time was running short. He only hoped they could get to the Sin and the baby in time.

Doctor Christopher Alan Warner let out a tired sigh as he rested the warm, black receiver of the clinic's telephone back on its hook. The night nurse had called in sick, as had his second, so that meant another night alone at the little hospital, watching over the two patients that inhabited the sick beds. Hopefully the evening would be fairly non-eventful and quite typically he didn't _count_ on much action. Dublith's little medical centre was not Central City General Hospital. Even though the country town seemed to be almost handing out invites for accidents with the spectrum of dangerous-looking field equipment the farmers used, it was nowhere near to par with the C.C.H.G's emergency room's intake. Gladstones' E.R was literally booked for appearances. Mostly because in Dublith, people used guns to hunt game or shoot cattle or the hat off an odd poacher or two. In Central, guns were used to shoot _people_. And it seemed to happen alot.

He stretched out, linking his fingers behind his head and pushed them backwards, taking in a yawn of air as he did so. Mary would be all right; she had the kids to look after. All three of his boys seemed to develop a mild cold at once and his wife had been busy for most of the day feeding them chicken soup and cough medicine. As long as none of their temperatures read higher than a hundred and one degrees, he was certain their mother would be able to handle them. Christopher did wish for her company though – not only would she be someone to talk to, she was also a particularly patient and able nurse. When the clinic first opened, it had only been himself and her, with a second practicing surgeon on call from the military headquarters.

He'd taken the day shift, along with the regular, minor clients and she'd taken to caring for those in the sick beds at night. It had been a good system until she'd gotten pregnant, then he'd happily hired another nurse and bade her take her time recovering at home until she was able to come back. It was nice to be able to spend some time with his wife properly for once and though Warner would not dream of forcing her to stay at home, the general male instinct inside him enjoyed having his dinner ready for him by the time he got home and the beautiful woman he married keen for conversation or play instead of flopping, exhausted into the bed beside him.

Three years and three boys later, Mary returned to the practice, but only to work on reception while the boys were at school. Warner himself had taken the phones today as was near ecstatic at five o'clock when he was able to disconnect the day phone and replace it with the emergency number for the evening. He spread the morning paper before him, now being the only time he really got to study it and adjusted his glasses a little. Yes, he may have to stay late tonight but he was fairly certain his shift would be like any other at this time.

Relaxing, dull and uneventful.

_The__universal__Murphy__rubbed__his__hands__together__in__anticipation_.

"You were like this the day I met you, weren't you? In _this_ form, I mean."

Greed had entered the cellar and much more quietly than Envy expected. Of course, his ears were full of the struggling, blunt rasp of his laboured breathing and the eerie, electrical blanket of intense pain, but he would have heard him. Should have. He was listening out after all.

"All on display and waiting for me. You were just like this back then."

He sounded thoughtful. _Thoughtful_, fuck it! One could imagine him scratching his chin, wearing a slightly disassociated expression and he perused the pain-laced rictus of his fallen brother's body.

Sheerly out of principle, Envy did not reply, only curled tighter against himself as a gruelling contraction clamped his middle. It felt like there was an underwater spider under his ribcage with a hacksaw under each mandible, tearing things apart with every breath. He wished he could hug his knees to his chest, but at the moment that feat was impossible and the best he could do was _imagine_ his arms were both six inches longer so they could link reassuringly under the pits of his knees and aid his thighs in their attempt to squeeze the hurt out of his belly. He wished he could just throw up, over and over again until the pain leaked out with the stomach bile and he choked and suffocated on his own swollen throat.

And Greed sounded _thoughtful..._

"You were on the bed though, not the ground..." Greed continued, his voice almost pacing around the figure huddled on the floor, though for the moment, he himself stayed still. "You thought you were playing back then. You thought you were smart, didn't you? I'm not someone you wanna fuck with – you never quite learned that. Of course, if you had, if you'd've been different, it might not have ended up like this."

And again, Envy didn't answer.

Mostly because he physically _couldn't;_ his body was tensed in such harrowing agony the only sounds he could make were screams, but also because he was afraid, yes, he was _afraid_ of antagonizing Greed further. The Homunculus was going to hurt him, that was for sure, but there was no point in pissing him off any more. He needed to play this out, distract for as long as possible until…what?

_(Until Lust…Lust'll help. She was the good one... Friend... Human friendly... Oh fuck, hurry up!)_

Envy wasn't even thinking clearly, and was too tired to even realize it. Still, he wasn't so far gone he couldn't analyse Greed's tone. His voice held a toying ring of anarchy - a boy with a magnifying glass over an anthill, a box of matches by a barn. It would be stupid to try and beg, assuming the Homunculus could be lenient - Greed was not known for his niceties, Greed was famous for getting what he wanted.

Greed was_also_, at the moment, silent, watching him. Watching him covered with mud and filth, wracked with agony. A part of him enjoyed the image – after witnessing Envy dance on the edge so many times, it gave him a warm, smug feeling to see the mighty finally stumble, plummet and hit rock bottom.

Toy soldiers were only made of tin after all. Nothing precious.

But at the same time he was… thoughtful. Intrigued perhaps summed it up better. Envy had been something, once… He didn't feel sorry for him, didn't feel anything remotely like consideration for him, but he did feel contemplative. This was what could happen to Homunculi, who screwed around too much. They wound up as humans. And humans who screwed around ended up as amputees. So basically, fucking with the general swing of things hurt a like a _bitch_.

Now Greed didn't have anything against humans – he rather liked them. Envy's recent one-way ticket to humanity wasn't what disgusted him – it was his attachment to the child. It was laughable. It made him weak and Greed didn't have patience for the useless, for the broken. Once the warranty and value ran out on anything, he threw it away. He had too much ambition to afford coddling anything worthless.

But he could play with something all the same while it still interested him. Keep drawing on the walls until the ink ran out and the nib grated the page.

"You can't even answer me, can you? No. You're too weak now. You stupid cunt, look at the piece of crap you turned yourself into. You really are worthless."

Envy didn't open his eyes.

He might've felt better if Greed had been yelling, or violent (well, wait, maybe not violent, but…) or angry. Something. Something _meant_ to hurt him, because Greed was like that, he would've known that Greed didn't actually believe what he was saying – he would've known Greed was just trying to hurt him.

Greed didn't sound angry. He sounded a little surprised. Which just made things worse.

"Idiot. I was right when I said that your brain is suffering from neglect – the gears must be fucking bunged up with cobwebs! Did you really think that you," This time, Greed did inch closer, the mud sucking and swallowing his footsteps. "Could control _me_that easily? You're worse than she is. Didn't like the surprise, though, did you? You didn't even know what the surprise was - but that's what sex is all about boy: my cock and your hole. You were the only one who got hurt in the end," Greed's voice grinned. "Just like now."

His thumbs were linked lazily in the belt loops of his pants and he stood so relaxed with himself and the world he basically _reclined_ over Envy's shivering body.

"I know most kids are pretty disgusted at the thought of their parents fucking, but you're the only one stupid enough to take a step _further_. Did you want to join in that badly?"

"I...did...not!" Envy rasped, then thought about it and added: "Arsehole!" for good measure. It didn't carry any real weight though – he was too tired for that, too worn, but there was such a thing as going down fighting. Pain flickered across his hips and he shuddered, cursing himself for losing control and speaking. Now he had to get his breathing under control again, for that was the only thing that seemed to help alleviate the pain. Huffing and panting only made him light-headed and dizzy, but long, deep breaths that seemed to curve over and embrace the spasms _did_. Something that was still very conscious in the back of his mind reminded him that the human doctor had showed him a technique similar to this and said it would help. Naturally, Envy had laughed in his face at the time. Ironically, he wasn't laughing now. A laugh would probably break his back, about now.

"Mm, perhaps not," Greed's voice was still playful, but the ailing Sin couldn't look into his face. He already knew what his expression would be like and he did not want to see it. If he did, he would react and he wouldn't give Greed that kind of leverage. "But I wanted you to. You started something you didn't know how to stop nor understood, _brother__mine,_ and that's _never_ a good idea."

"I... knew how to fight you off." Envy retorted, grittily. "I wasn't going to let you... win."

He drew in an easier breath as the pain receded; yet the pounding, wet ache in his hips remained in stubborn resistance. Envy tried not to think about it and lay still. He was doing much better so far, but when the contraction started again, he wasn't certain how secret his condition would remain. Keeping Greed entertained to distract him seemed to be working, but Envy had his doubts. He knew his brother well enough to understand that 'knowing' was as good as diddly squat when it came to the Sin of Desire. Greed had a basic nature for excess, that much was certain, but he also had the unique ability to manipulate his character about that and climb out of his general stereotype. He planned, he _calculated_, he was always one step ahead and that just wasn't _fair_. Even his own destruction had ended up as suicide – a final 'fuck you' to Dante, who didn't really want him dead, but realized she could no longer have him alive either.

_You didn't kill me, I killed me – nyah nyah!_

In light of Envy's situation... well, he may even know _exactly_ what was going on, only he might be saving letting on for later. The Sin trembled a little and focused again on getting air into his lungs. Back down to basics, that was it. Keep the air going and the heart beating. So what if he couldn't feel his feet any longer? Who cared if the tendons, veins and nerves in his legs had depleted into a strange, spocked fuzz?

_(I'm bleeding somewhere on the inside, that's what this coldness is. It happened before. I won't die though. I won't. Not yet... )_

"You didn't even know what it _meant_ to win, half-wit," Greed chuckled, clearly enjoying Envy's resistance, weak as it was. "You thought Dante and I were _wrestling!_ I almost got to do it to you once, too, when your curiosity go the better of you. Too bad the old lady found us out..."

Envy slammed his eyelids shut and tried not to let the memory slip into his mind. He'd liked it... almost. Back then, when his innocence toward the world had a hand in his decision making he'd actually _let_Greed's eager fingers sail across the flawless flesh he's created to tempt him. His body had taken him a long time to perfect for it was much harder to create an original form as opposed to simply copying a cast and Envy was very proud of his outcome. Sweet, supple, forbidden fruit for Greed - that was the plan, Envy had made himself irresistible enough to lure away Dante's most avid lover. But Lilith wasn't about to let Adam make the same mistake as Humanities' mother and quickly stole her possession away.

"Shame really. Could've been fun."

It was then that Envy had been made to go on countless 'missions' across the land with the maliciously-challenged Lust. At first he thought his mother was just being pointless and spiteful. Now he realized she'd actually been, for a brief second, _actually__been_ afraid of the power he possessed and he himself knew little about.

_Oh God, he'd been so simple for so long. Blind._

"Don't really like thinking about that though, do you pigeon?" Greed chortled, watching Envy closely for a reaction. "You don't like how close I came. Think she would've killed you for it? I do – I almost had you."

"Almost," Envy interjected, painfully. "But... you didn't."

"Who says?" Laughter tickled the air, only it wasn't pleasant. It punctured the wall of sound about Envy and hung on like a gremlin; it's weight pulling at the hastily constructed confidence he'd built about himself. "I'd definitely say I have you _now."_

"Then... you're... only one saying it... _fuckwit_..." Envy spat, trying not to groan as his muscles began to tense again, squeezing mercilessly with a strength he couldn't believe he still possessed while the rest of him was so weak. Numb fingers clenched desperately at the bottom of his belly, willing the contraction to pass unnoticed.

"Perhaps," Greed shrugged. "But I know I'm right. You should have given in, kid. You could have been my son, that was the easiest. Dante even suggested it herself. I mightn't have loved you, but I certainly- "Greed stopped and thought a moment. "_Probably_ wouldn't have hurt you."

"Yeah... right," Envy coughed, his face hidden from his captor by his hair, grimacing as the agony set in again. "You don't... deserve a son. You have a habit of…scarring things…"

"Like _you_, you mean? I'm flattered," Greed was stroking Envy's back now, running his claws along the protruding ridges of his spine. "But I don't think I can take all the credit – your own family pulled a nice number long before me. Never did understand why you let your daddy-kins live, you could've killed him." Greed tilted his head, fingering one limp strand of brackish hair. "Probably. It'd be hard for even _you_to screw up."

"If I'd've found him... I would have."

Greed laughed in his throat, a gurgling, plughole sound, his fingers gradually easing over more of Envy's trembling form. One talon casually ripped through what remained of Envy's shirt, a nice tearing sound that sort of shredded through the silence. Soon he'd be ripping through flesh, for one purpose or another, and then there'd be screams to provide a nice orchestral accompaniment.

"Liar. You lack the guts. Of course, I don't mean physically..."

The claws found their way about Envy's stomach and circled the skin lightly before slinking upwards toward his chest. Envy could feel his skin crawl and attempt to shrink away from the roving touch – especially when said talons happened across a nipple and prodded it carefully, tracing the aureole.

"You had the motivation, but you did _shit_ with it – you can't do anything on your own, you're useless. If the bull's eye isn't directly in you face, you can't handle it. You don't know what to do with yourself. Hell, you didn't even venture past the boundaries of Dante's nose to even _attempt_smoking him out."

"I had... other things...on my mind."

"Like what? _Me?"_ Greed eased down to his knees and stooped, leaning over Envy's neck, his lips barely grazing the tender area behind his ear. "I'm flattered really I am."

Envy jumped and gasped in half pain, half surprise, quickly covering it with a snort that he hoped was as full of loathing as he'd imagine Greed would have expected.

_(Fuck it. Damn it damn it damn it. I need an out. I need an out badly.)_

_(I just need to keep him talking a while more. Just keep him talking a bit longer…)_

_(…And then what?)_

"I'm... not complimenting you..."

Greed sneered.

"So? It's _still_the truth. I put you off. I took her away from you." Greed held his chin tightly – proudly, his teeth white and displayed like a fan of a peacock. "I will always be newer, _better_, refined, and she will _always_ like me more. And you'll never be able to change that."

Greed was hitting a sore spot, he knew, but with the size of the chip Envy had on his shoulder (fish and chips on his shoulder, even) he was practically begging to get the sacking ripped out of him. And Envy was rarely prettier than when he was begging.

"Fuck…yourself." God he was tired. He was so tired. He was so tired and he hurt so much all over. He was almost too tired to feel the pain and too much in pain to feel tired. "Dante had…plenty of beaus..." Envy caught his breath as Greed's tongue slipped about his earlobe, his husky breath warming his hair though the smell of it spun Envy's knotting stomach like a top. "You were just ano... another mark on the bedpost."

"But I was the deepest groove," The tongue greased out of Envy's ear and polished over the mud-caked surface of his cheek as one of Greed's paws smoothed around the hitching flesh of Envy's belly and inched down into the low-slung waistband of his trousers. An unwelcome, involuntary whimper heralded the incursion of Envy's groin and he gagged at the _ugly_ feeling of being handled.

"I was the one," a tongue felt the corner of his eye, over his sweaty forehead, "she wanted. Needed. She told me secrets... things she hadn't told anyone in decades and simply because I'd listen. I cared... and I didn't even have to mean it. She didn't even care she was that far gone. _That's_ your Dante," Greed leaned back, relaxing enough on his side to see Envy's eyes. "Too desperate, too needy – pathetic. Killing her would make the world a better place."

Envy wasn't looking at him. Greed wasn't surprised, and instead twined more of the dirty hair around on his fingers, idly making nooses. "_That's_ your Dante chasing after your dad who wouldn't give her the time of day, who didn't notice his son until he was dead, and that's _you_ who was worth _shit_ until you died and even then not much."

_(Shut up...)_

_(Hurts...)_

_(I hurt…)_

"And finally that's me, who won it all – I didn't just _replace_ him," one of Greed's hands slid along his legs, inciting pain he couldn't believe. There was more? _Still_more? "I _upgraded_ him. And you hated me for it."

"I hated you because you were an asshole," Envy wheezed, his voice barely breaking a whisper."

"You hated me because I was the favourite and you weren't. Because I knew about my powers while you were afraid of yours. Because in the end you had to ask me to teach you how to cause pain properly. I made you, I created the real Envy from the clueless little bastard who'd been murdered in cold blood. By _Mummy..."_

He only had to wait seconds for the comment to digest before Envy was squirming slowly, painfully in the mud, fighting to look up at him. Worm on a hook. And _what_ a look it was, Greed let his eyelids slide closed a little in ecstasy as the prime example of shock-horror regarded him through wild, frantic eyes.

Of course, he couldn't help but add:

"Oh, Envy. Didn't you know?"

"My muh... D-Dant... _She_ did not kill me." Hard-edged danger iced through the air on a sparse, chilling breath. If Envy were well, Greed knew that kind of comment would be followed consecutively by a three-tonne punch to the skull, no other warning offered. But Envy, right here, right now, could barely move himself off the ground and the only retaliation he could put up was in his words. In his glare. He'd always been good at glaring.

_(You look at me like that? That's a bad boy just begging to be spanked that is.)_

"Oh, come _on_," Greed smiled pityingly. "Maybe I heard wrong, but I remember something about a health-tonic she had her little_shnookums_ drink down…almost every day of his sickly pathetic life."

The Homunculus was still grinning like a man who didn't just have the right cards, but had_every_ card in the deck worth having. "Now, I'm not an expert or anything, but I do remember reading accounts in Dante's journals about people who died taking health elixirs from Alchemists."

A dreadful, ancient fear clambered over Envy's lungs and seized them with needle-like claws. Dante had called it an elixir... But it was for the good of his health right? Since he was such a sickly child... It was the mercury that killed him – the silver balls he's swallowed... wasn't it?

_(Mercury passes through the human system harmlessly; it's only the vapour that kills. The Alchemists found that out. Dead mice in cages. Mercury passes harmlessly in its solid state...)_

"Awfully coincidental, yeah? People didn't know much about medicine back then, but your Mum _did_." Greed curled an arm around Envy's shoulders and drew him up against his chest, grinning down at him with a scimitar smile. "At least, she knew how to keep a child weak enough, pathetic enough to command sympathy from the devil himself, otherwise known as Mr Hohenheim Elric."

"It was for the good of my health... It was making me better..." Envy didn't take his eyes away from Greed's face, searching desperately for any sign of a trick, a quiver of a lie. "For the good of my health... that's what she said."

Nothing flickered on his outward facade, but something inside Greed sat down and started laughing helplessly. Envy was referring to his old self in the first person – he still considered his current guise and the scrawny little blonde kid as one and the same. Which meant he still considered Dante, or some part of Dante, his mother.

He never really did get over it, did he...

_(Idiot.__You_must _be__related.__I'll__bet__you__get__it__from__your__mother.)_

"Making you better?" Greed twisted the smile, wringing the humanity from it entirely. "Or simply destroying certain nerves that register pain so you only felt like you were mending. Although as I said," Greed hugged the trembling form tighter, squeezing it a little and feeling the thin limbs strain against him. "I'm no Alchemy-quack."

_(Harmlessly...)_

"Fuck you!" Envy cried, his brittle resistance flaking. "You're making it up! You're lying! I'll yank your tongue outta your mouth, you're _just_ like her!"

"Am I? Didn't the tonic stop once Daddy left? Was he even there when you died, sweetheart? Did he even _notice?"_

"Shut up! _Shut__up!"_

"Dante's plan didn't work to keep him around - seemed you failed again. And when you came back – when you _really_ came back, I'm not talking your time as that splattered, domesticated hamster -blob; you truly were the bitter little thing. Only you never became vicious enough to be useful until I-"

Envy started to kick out in earnest, but Greed's claws sank into his arm and he was pulled in, crushed against the Homunculus, gasping for air and sweating a fountain. Greed whispered to him, soft and sharp as steel. No, sharper, it cut _through_ steel. It cut through pain, it cut through _time._

"You were useless until I came. So freaking _useless_… You _needed_ me. Because you didn't know how to hate him without me."

"Fuck you…" was that his voice? That tiny, weak wobbling thing? Was that _his_ voice? It couldn't be…it sounded tired enough to be dead. That couldn't be his voice…not his, not Envy's, that couldn't be his voice!

Greed's tongue touched his ear again, and black-covered claws grazed against his neck as the Homunculus yanked his face closer, grinning wolfishly.

"I made you. I'm responsible for what you are, and you hate me for it. I _made_ you."

Envy screamed. There wasn't much more Envy could do _but_ scream as the Homunculus mercilessly tore the memory of his very existence into bloody confetti before him. So he did, anguish balling in his newborn soul while his fabricated truth slowly unravelled from the loom in his mind. He'd tried to be strong though the pain, he really had. But Greed was armed with weapons of mass mental torture and the revenge-bent Sin did not play fair. He didn't just push buttons, he fucking jabbed into them with red-hot spikes. Envy curled against him, sweat-soaked, muddy and slippery trying to gasp for breath and yell and at the same time pushing feebly with his hands -hating whoever had designed humans to be so _weak_. Embarrassingly weak. The sand in the hourglass was running thin, grains of hope disappearing past the tight neck of transition. Hopeless, so very, utterly, despairingly hopeless. It wasn't fair. No matter what he did, things just wouldn't get _fair_.

So he told the world about it. He told it long and hard about just how fucking unfair it was.

Yet Greed only wrestled him closer, capturing the scream with a forceful kiss that was not so much a passionate gesture as it was the allegory of a key scraping in a lock. Envy wailed through it, his lips wrenching back to bare his teeth, silencing himself only when a rough, inhuman hand with the texture of asphalt scraped lightly over the curve of his half-naked stomach, cupping the rounded flesh lightly as gently one would hold a baby bird. Envy relented, fear for the child pouring off him in cold waves.

Slowly, almost eerily, a low whistle penetrated the eclipse of silence that had plummeted over the pair and wavered about a little, testing. Then it skipped a bit, became louder, jarringly cheery and formed a tune. Envy hid a wince as Greed chirped in his ear then began singing in a low, teasing alto.

"Half a pound of tuppenny rice, half a pound of treacle..." He stopped and let his eyes wander over his captive, his hand continually caressing Envy's grimy skin. "You might not know this one, could be after your time of playground rhymes..."

_(Round and round the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel, that's the way the money goes, Pop goes the weasel...)_

"Something about stoats," Envy lied, his pulse thundering as yet another contraction tore through his tired body. He tensed and winced, focusing inward on the terrible pain. The best he could do was to try and hide it with a coughing fit, and so he did, writhing and hacking in Greed's arms until his muscles settled again. Miraculously, the Homunculus waited until he calmed, rocking him gently, like a child.

"No, _weasels_, not stoats – you know that, you tricksy shit. And I wonder, Envy. Are you a weasel, hmm?" Greed snickered a little as he flexed his claws spasmodically over Envy's lower belly.

"D-does that..." Envy choked on dizziness and bile. "Does that... make you a monkey... _fucker?"_

"The weasel went 'pop', didn't it?" Greed prompted, ignoring the jilted, scathing remark. "'Pop goes the weasel'? Isn't that exactly what you're trying not to do now?"

Envy stared at him a second, childish fear creeping with ghostly footsteps over his nerves. He knew. He'd probably known all along. And now...

"Killing me is..." He shook his head. "You don't want to kill me... You won't... h-have me if you do."

"Hush now, who said anything about killing?" Greed's lips tugged an arm into a smile. "Actually, I think _I_ did, didn't I? Oh well - you wouldn't be my son, you wouldn't be my lover, I guess you'll just have to be my victim." He shrugged philosophically. One out of three wasn't bad; could be better, could be worse. "Maybe I'll name the kid after you."

"Maybe he'll die," Envy shot back. "You could... cut him... accidentally. I'm... I've not... been well, he might... be sick too..."

"Cry me a river," Greed rolled his eyes, digging his sharp nails in to draw five round pools of blood. "So long as I get him first. Before you and before that _bitch_." His teeth practically lengthened, straining to break free from that _damn_ grin. "That's all that matters."

"Greed," Envy moaned with barely audible contrition as the Homunculus drew his arm back, cracking his knuckles gleefully. "Don't..."

_(I'm sorry... kid... I tried... )_

There was a horrible moment. The feeling of the earth crumbling beneath one's feet as the cliff gave way and the sky danced helplessly overhead. Then Greed's fist came down, the claws punctured skin, and flesh, already under dense pressure from the inside, split and gave. Blood and fluid vomited from the wound and Envy watched, frozen in horrified fascination as charcoaled fingers curled around the tiny figure in his yawning, mutilated womb and plucked it out as though removing a thorn. There was a wail, not his, not Greed's. But before Envy could crane his head up to investigate, his body ratcheted and seized up from shock, his eardrums rupturing with the force of his final scream. He cast one final look at the strange, purple-tinged form of his child, wonderful, amazing, _alive_ child, before his guttering vision faded and he realized...

He...um...

He realized... Greed hadn't touched him at _all_.

He _couldn't_, not with a thick, transmuted sheet of earth separating and shielding Envy's body from the inevitable blow. Another blast sent Greed skimming across the slick surface of the cellar floor, muck splattering heavily in his slipstream. The Homunculus rolled and righted himself, growling low at the near angelic image of Edward, who was crouched in kinetic readiness on the rickshaw stairs – his golden hair illuminated in a mandala of light. Though his face was dark in comparison and Envy could barely see with his weak, tunnelling vision, the tone of the Alchemist's voice clearly matched that of what would be his expression.

And he only needed to utter one, single word.

_"You..."_


	15. Back to Mine

**Dark Humor.**

_Chapter__15:__Back__to__mine_.

"_You..."_

The word plummeted into the dirty, crusted atmosphere of the cellar like a lead weight – a veritable show-stopper of almost physical poundage. With a curled tail of accusing ellipsis that cut like a virtual Excalibur, the utterance, the chimera of morpheme and vehemence smashed through Greed's shrewd illusion, throwing up a white glove between abuser and abusee.

Another had tagged himself in.

_And the bell goes 'ding'..._

Edward was panting a little, sweat coursing down his face from the heat and exertion. The day had been far too long already and he was well past the standard definition of dog-tired. His back ached from the hours of running, he had a painful bruise where the joint of Al's spiked pauldron had clipping him a few times on their mad dash back to Dublith and his feet were nothing but a fuzz of blistered pins and needles – so clumsy and flat by now that it seemed to him he'd traded flesh and steel for a couple of pancakes to attach to his ankles. Even worse stood the fact that he _was_likely to think such a thing - his mind having crumbled into a complete and absolute demolition site, floundering about in a swamp of emotional jet-lag where anxiety hung like a wet sheet wound into a loop about his neck, dragging his chin down somewhere near his navel.

Yet _while_ his knees felt like they were made of quivery jam and his legs seemed as heavy as concrete Automail; while his brain gasped for a breath of clear conscience and his pride refused to accept the guilt pawing at it's coat tails, he was still, for lack of a better description: extremely _pissed._ Greed had taken from him. That _bastard_had taken from him. He'd done it before, and he'd had the _nerve_to do it again and Edward wasn't particularly impressed about that. No, not _one_smidgeon. Stealing away something very close and personal to the elder Elric was rather like waving a red flag in front of the metaphorical bull, then poking fun at its stature and laughing at it's platform hooves.

In most circumstances, the Alchemist had proved himself to beparticularly thick-skinned; only he lacked that miniscule amount of wafer-thin discipline when the jibes in question stressed upon the _amount_of the aforementioned epidermis he possessed. Which was, for such a petite skeleton, far less than that of a typical late-teen.

And less than his temper would vouch for.

Continue strolling down such a path and soon you'd have something very short, very blond and very furious rolling up it's sleeves, sending you its best impersonation of a Greek Titan before a naked, taunting Zeus. Fists, teeth, spit and elbows et al, float like a butterfly, sting like a fucking piranha, that was Edward Elric. And so very much akin his adversary, he too did not like his things going walkies, especially not at gunpoint.

Or more precisely: clawpoint.

Slowly descending the rickety stairs, never once taking his eyes off the smirking Sin (_bastard,__bastard_), his fists burned with the familiar sensation of _prediction._Edward had never believed in extra sensory perception - he wasn't about to surrender of his scientific vainglory to endorse _hocus__pocus__-_yet he didn't have to be a palm reader to know that his knuckles were going to be connecting with something very soon. And that they were going to enjoy it. Immensely. Hopefully shorten a lifeline or two.

"You..." The Alchemist hissed again, fire and brimstone dripping from his voice as his temper salivated in anticipation of a fight. "You _arsehole!"_

"My, if it isn't the fucking 3rd battalion," Greed replied coolly. Then he stood up, put his hands on his hips and laughed, further taking in the sight of the rather flustered avenging angel hovering in his doorway. Blondie-boy suited his role well, far _too_ well in fact. One could've just as easily replaced his Automail with a flaming sword; for already he'd drawn that stunted bayonet of his.

_Eager bastard..._

Yet from what the old, tattered volumes of Dante's library spoke of Angels, Edward wasn't _really_much of one. They were supposed to be magnanimous beings, exalted, larger than life. The irritable little flesh sack before him seemed like very much the contrary – arguably more like a hummingbird.

An _avenging_ hummingbird. Yeah, that was it. Greed smirked. And Edward scowled.

"_What?"_

"Aw, nothing much, really," the Sin shrugged, absently toying with a fleck of grit that had caught under one of his claws. He could afford to be casual – he wasn't a master at plots like that bitch had been, but he always made sure to be at _least_one step in front. If but one. "Only, _shit_, shorty. You keep standing there like that, you're gonna make your boyfriend," He jerked a thumb sideways at Envy. "Come in his pants... Ya know?"

A revolted snort struck the air as Ed's upper lip curled, brows digging painfully into the bridge of his nose. It was unfortunate a brisk and unexpected blush spoiled the entire visage of absolute fury in miniature, but Edward's emotions, goopy and cold like melted ice cream in his stomach, couldn't handle any kind of unprecedented accusations and he responded in surprised automation.

"He's _not_my boyfriend!"

"You say that and yet you bound in, guns drawn – so to speak, all set to _rescue_ him." Greed snorted. "Sorry if I got the wrong picture but _dost__I__hear__the__bay__of__a__gallant__steed__outside__mine__chamber__door,__Sir__Edward?"_

"Shut up!"

"And _if_he's not your boyfriend, then I guess it really _isn't_yourseed swelling his gut to a circumference to rival Gluttony's."

_(Blush... Blush, blush, blush... Books never do a young man any good do they? Not unless they have a centrefold and we ain't talking 1:1000 scale astrological charts...)_

The Homunculus continued, flexed his claws, knuckles popping. "'Cause if it isn't I'll just get rid of it for the poor bastard..."

"No!" Edward cried, almost instantaneously. Greed hadn't even _lifted_his foot to take a step. He swapped his grin for a knowing smirk and sighed, replacing his hands back onto his hips.

"No? Is _is_then?"

"Um..."

"True or false, Eddie."

"He's not-"

"You have ten seconds..."

"No! Shut up! I mean... Fine," Ed grumbled, hands still shaking at the ready. "Fine. Alright. I... uh... it was me that...uh... It _is_m-mine... That." Something inside Edward fizzed a little as he spoke. His admission of amenability for the child had created warm feeling of obligation that coated his frazzled nerves like honey. But of course, despite this righteous revelation, _indignation_didn't forget to throw in it's two cents worth and he added: "But Envy's _not_ my boyfriend."

"Ah perhaps. But at least you two finally agree that you're both noteworthy lunatics who've dabbled in a most blasphemous act. Homosexuality is against several God's decrees, don't ya know? North, South, East. West – none of 'em are particularly sympathetic toward fudge-packers. Even good ol' Ishbala liked to ignite the odd queer with his holy anti-fag fire..."

He ignored the fact that Envy had said he'd seduced the Alchemist as a woman. Trivial things like that didn't matter, especially when Ed was sustaining such a _pretty_pink color. One might've thought he'd gone mad with rum and rouge and was planning something of a night of it – save for the fact that he was glowering in a schoolboy-ish way, lips pursed tight like a cat's arse.

"I don't care about any Gods; I'm not religious."

"No, you're not. _Sac_religious, actually. And you would be. You alchemists and your bloody Panacea, your Great Elixir, your _fucking_immortality _bling._ The term 'God' means nothing to you, does it? He's just another person to say 'no', and we _all_know what Alchemists do when they're told 'no'..."

"Let him _go,_Greed!"

"They go and do it anyway, don't they?"

"Greed!"

"What?"

"_Let__him__go!"_

"I'm not even touching him!"

Edward _really_wanted to roll his eyes about now.

"Don't be an idiot! Why are you doing this? You had nothing against me!"

"Aside from the fact that you _killed_me?" Greed sniggered. "Oh yeah, you and I get along fine – just peachy. Let me know next time you and your Alchemy mates have a slumber party, I'll bring the snacks. I've got some dirty magazines too, if you're feeling_really_naughty. Or maybe we can just slaughter a lamb and use its blood for lube for when we fuck your fat-ass lover with one of our broomsticks."

The angel/hummingbird snarled and Greed let it reverberate though him, sighing inwardly.

_(Oh__yeah...__now_that's _what__I'm__talking__about.__What__a__face!__I'll__bet__ol'__fatty__la-la_loved _fantasizing__those__pretty__lips__wrapped__around__his__dick...__)_

"But I guess you're not _that_kind of Alchemist are you? So why don't you turn around and march right back up those stairs like a good little law-abiding State puppy." The Sin motioned to the staircase and waggled his fore and middle fingers as though they were walking legs."

"You know I can't do that." Ed responded, typically.

"Sure you can, it's easy. All you have to do is face _that_way and put one foot in front of the other."

"Greed!"

"Oh, that's _right,_" The Homunculus punched his palm in droll comprehension. "Your _baby!_Well _gee__whizz_ Eddie, you wanna be a Dad that badly? Do you really think you could look after a baby? Considering how you did _so__well_ with your little brother."

Reality _clanged,_ a similar resonance to the sound of Al's metallic footsteps. Edward ignored him and took a careful step forward, the fingers of his Automail hand flexing beneath the long, glinting shard of the cutting blade.

"Don't. He's been through enough."

"Has he now?" Greed's barb of an eyebrow quirked in time to a tic in a corner of his mouth. "Has he _really?_And how much do _you_know about him, Mister Elric Smarty-pants? How many people do you think have suffered at these hands? How many people have been 'through enough' because of him?"

Ed remained silent, still advancing slowly. Greed chuckled again.

"Of course, it's not that I really _care_about all of them." His eyes twinkled, hands curled into blackened claws, beckoning Ed to come closer. "But I _do__care_ about _me._ And let me tell you, this boy owes me a _lot_more than a cup of sugar."

"No, he doesn't. He's different now," Ed replied.

"No fucking shit, genius."

Golden eyes fixed upon violet and glued there.

"He's been given another chance."

_(I think...)_

"Well, bloody hell, look at this - so have I!" Greed licked his lips. "And I intend to use it to reconcile a few... how should I say it? _Differences_with my brothers and sisters. Yes." The Homunculus watched him for a few lazy seconds. "Hey Ed... Tell me... How did it feel?"

"How did what feel?"

"His ass and having your cock up it," Greed's smile hitched again, pulling up it's petticoat to show the lascivious glint of his serrated teeth beneath. "Oh wait, no. That's wrong, that wouldn't work. You must have been up his _pussy,_mustn't you? Ooh, I bet that was nice. Was he tight? Was he juicy, hmm? Warm? Better than your hand.-"

"Shut up!"

"Better than your _brother,_hmm?"

Ed gasped. He literally, _literally_gasped with all the paralyzed shock and outrage in the world. Greed loved it, lapped it up avidly and grinned back – his whiskers dripping. The kid was ambrosia, a fine culinary affair that should have been arranged neatly on a silver platter and offered around at parties. There were few who could pull off such a delicious display of scandalized appall and Greed considered the idea as Ed stuttered away like a jackhammer. It certainly wasn't without its appeal…

"_I...never...__I__would_never _touch__Al..."_

"Sure... Sure of course not. Brothers don't do that kind of thing after all, do they?" Greed sniggered, knowing something very important about the whole sibling affair that Edward obviously didn't at this point. "They don't do that at _all..."_

"What are you getting at?"

"Oh nothing, nothing." The Homunculus replied in a sing song voice, petticoat dancing the can-can. "I'm just curious to know how it felt to pound the stuffing out of this pretty body here while it squirmed away on your hips? Was it nice?

Ed's lip curled as a growl rumbled in the back of his throat, hackles stiffening.

"I mean, he really _did_have the greatest of asses – I would know; I'd screwed the majority of those he'd based it off. Probably the same for the cunt he created. He was real proud of his little guise. His Sunday best. So when you two were going at it like the last two rabbits on Amestris, did he scream your name or his?"

"Disgusting..."

"What? _You're_disgusting for fucking him? _He's_disgusting for getting fucked, or _I'm_disgusting for wanting to know? Tell, me, kid, 'cause I'm a little confused here..."

Ed shook his head a little, his steel fingers grinding as they squeezed together tightly. The palm of his other hand was shaking as what was left of his short, bitten fingernails cut into the skin with a half-moon bite. Worry and anger stifled his words and the lump in his chest, a permanent resident by now, constricted like the winding key of an organ grinder's tin monkey. He couldn't see Envy too well in the gloom, but the Sin hadn't gotten to his feet yet, it was perhaps most likely that he _couldn't,_ and lay in a heap in the mud between Greed and himself. His ragged breaths were so faint they were barely noticeable but they tugged at Edward's ears all the same.

_(He doesn't have long... People who are breathing like that don't have long... )_

"Hn, I'm guessing you're probably referring to _me_then," Greed answered himself. "But one last question before you start _wailing_on me with your over-sized steak knife there: did you know he was in _love_ with you?"

There is only so far one can wind the monkey's key before the thread breaks, the cymbals clash and all hell breaks loose.

_Pop goes the weasel..._

"Bastard!" Edward roared, charging at the Sin, embarrassment and fury riding like second lieutenants at his side. Greed gave an excited whoop and raced forward, snatching a handful of Envy's hair as the two collided over him, Ed's blade clanging loudly on a forearm harder than diamond. He swiveled and slung his other fist at Greed's face, but the Homunculus caught it in his teeth, biting down hard on the literal knuckle sandwich.

Hissing a few colourful curses, Ed kicked out as Greed twisted his parrying arm around, gripping the Automail in his claws and clenched down hard, making the steel scream with the pressure. Of course, now he only had his legs free as he was still clutching at Envy's hair, but the Alchemist's position was just as constricted. And Greed knew that was certainly better for _himself_in the long run. He was well aware of what those hands could do. Especially when the brat brought them together.

_(Just like that rat-faced Kimbley: The only two bastards in the world who were happy to get the clap... )_

The Homunculus grinned through his mouthful and ran his tongue over the ridges of Ed's fingers, eyes lighting up with glee as the boy shuddered in repulsion.

"Filthy. You filthy, horrible son of a bitch, I can't _believe_I actually mourned you, the day you died."

"Ahm noht ash filwfy ash jhuh biwf who mabe me!"

"Don't talk with you mouth full!" Ed snarled as he planted his foot in the center of Greed's chest and thrust backwards, hard, consequently ripping deep channels in the skin above his knuckles. Flesh and tendon burned as they severed beneath the sharp teeth and Ed sucked in a breath as he whipped sideways – one arm free, the other still attached to the Homunculus at the wrist.

_(Fuck!)_

Blood splattered onto the mud, only to be swiftly devoured by the revolting slime on the surface. Pain pounded on Ed's stomach and he felt the nausea rise in his throat, his body replaying the sensation of those jaws grazing bone as he wrenched his hand free. Skin pulsed as the blood pumped and a hot rush sizzled up his arm to the elbow.

_And his other hand was still trapped._

_Get it out._

_Get it out._

Ed twisted his Automail around in Greed's clamped fist, trying to find a weakness in his grasp. But the Homunculus left no room for error, the pincer clamp of his claws was enough to dent the steel guard and their grip was as stubborn as the river crabs handshake back in Rizenbul – once they were latched on, they were on and your toe was history. Envy lay on the ground between them, limbs pressed as close to his body as he could manage. So far, he'd barely moved nor made any type of reaction toward Edward's heroic entrance save a low moan when Greed seized his sweaty hair and yanked it, but the alchemist knew better than to assume he was angry or ignoring him on purpose. He was in very serious trouble. Edward didn't know much about labor, but from what Lust had described on their way, it didn't sound good at all.

Only, _while_ he was in this particular position, Ed couldn't slide underneath Greed to knock his legs out from under him, nor was it possible to get too close. Every time he advanced to try and free the ailing ex-Sin, Greed would jerk backwards, dragging poor Envy by his scalp through the grime. Once or twice, as Ed stumbled in the fighter's odd waltz, he caught a glimpse of Envy's face through his hair and felt his heart twist at the tensed grimace of agony that contorted it. He felt the desperate need to comfort the suffering figure, despite the embarrassment of his adversary's presence.

_(The others are coming... I just have to get this guy off you and they'll be able to get you outta here... Just hold on...)_

But there was so little he could do while the other had him. And Greed was laughing again. _Again._

"Yeah, that's right, blondie. Ol' _bakemono_here was _real_smitten with you, even got in some public groping in, didn't you, boy?" The Homunculus joggled Envy's head a little, using his hair as though it were strings of a marionette. The fallen moaned low and pained and somehow, _somehow_managed to tell Greed to fuck off. Did he even know Edward was there?

"Really got into some kissy-kissy out by the apple tree..."

"What apple tree?" Ed frowned, confusion clouding his features for a second. "I was never out by any apple trees..."

"No, _you_weren't." Greed sucked in a chuckle, then tensed and willed his form to shift again. To something else. _Someone_else. His height lessened. Bones shrank and drew into themselves, converting the unnecessary extra material into a neutral substance and slung it out into his body for later use. Brown hair lengthened, cascaded and faded to the color of ripe corn – even writhed and twisted about itself, forming a loose braid. Sharp eyes rounded and became wider and brightened to gold. His right arm stiffened, hardened and sprouted external joints, pins and rivets; shoulder opening up, metal skin splitting to display a circulatory system of wires and connectors.

And all this happened within a fast flash of pelting light, a millisecond where science and logic take a holiday and all worldly rationale goes: _phht!_ Edward may have been able to explain away Greed's carbon armor, but Envy's shape shifting abilities defied all tangible theory and simply heaved explanations away to outbox for the shredder to deal with.

The Alchemist himself could only gape as his clone emerged from the sizzling glow, grinning with a leer that was his, but _wasn't_ – couldn't ever be. He'd certainly never been able to produce something _that_ full of malice. Not even on a good day.

"Who... Who the... how?"

"_You_weren't under the apple tree, getting the feeling up of your life. But _this_you..." Edward's own eyes were laughing at him - looking back and _laughing_at him. "_He_was. And he _loved_it."

"H-how?" Ed _hated_ the way his voice sounded like a little wood mouse scrabbling at the edge of its hole while a dog pinned down its tail, but he couldn't help it. The dog had bigger paws and more explanations.

"Think about it! Or are you just as much of an idiot as _this_one?" His doppelganger cackled with an identical voice box.

"No! I know _that!"_Ed retorted. "I _know_about the Homunculus. But... You're able to use its powers?"

"_Just_like I went and swallowed Envy himself eh?" There was a nasty light in the mirroring golden eyes. The dog was laughing at the mouse, knowing that after it was dead it might try and sell its head to the cat. "Oh wait... I _did..._Tastes a bit like chicken..._"_

A few seconds of uncertain gaping passed as Edward collected his wits, of which had momentarily scattered like petals in the breeze. The Homunculus waited patiently in wry amusement while Ed's mouth opened and closed, opened and closed, went to say something, then closed again. He didn't need to push the battle – he enjoyed fighting, but he had all the time in the world for it. More time than Edward and certainly more time than Envy.

Finally the gawking ceased and the scowl returned, glaring flaming daggers up at its opponent.

"Greed," Edward seethed, pressing his tongue hard against the back of his teeth. "Let him go. There's nothing he's got left to give you..."

"That's what _you_think!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

The Greed/Ed sighed theatrically.

"What am talking about? Fuck - _look_at him, idiot! He's got an ass finer than any cross-dressed fag in Central, a prettier mug than any of the painted ladies up in Xing and to _boot_he's burstin' with a child that I _know_is more than one person's Christmas list."

"He's _dying!_He hasn't got long!" Edward exploded into his own grinning face, thought he really wasn't too sure of the fact himself. "How could you want something that's not going to last?"

"How could I?" The smirk grew, blossomed. Took seed and sprouted off to grow an entire new species of smug. "You _really_don't understand the meaning of 'want' do you, Elric?"

"You m-mean you'd...?"

"I," Greed bent a little and took a sniff at the tuft of brackish hair in his hand as though he was enjoying a posy. "Will do as I like. I've always _done_as I liked. I've always done _who_I liked..."

He released his grip and Envy's head dropped to the floor with a sickening _sput_. The Automail dived close, _too_close and Edward wrenched and twisted in his replica's grip – cursing the weakness of his own steel hand against Greed's mere flesh impersonation. Even in the exact same form, Homunculi were stronger. _Much_stronger. And he couldn't get away.

The copied steel fingers flexed over Envy's belly and from them, in another spark of that cold, fizzing-soda light, a thin, diagonal slice of blade silently edged over the smooth finger joints – the light _drooling_off it as it took in the expanse of stretched flesh that lay perpendicular to its cutting edge. Slowly, like a cat taking the first lick of cream, the razor dipped and drew a thin etch of blood on the sweat-stained skin. Envy did not move. Edward drew in a choking gasp.

"...And I _don't_share my toys. Ever. I'm _greedy_, if I _must_continue to point out the obvious to you idiot-bastards."

The mimicked grin flattened, became a snarl and before Edward could even think about doing anything to stop him, the blade was descending again in a tight arc.

"No!" He screamed and amazingly Greed jerked to a halt. But it wasn't the Alchemist's outburst that interrupted him, nor was it thunderous crash as the external cellar wall burst inwards like a punctured can, spilling both Lust and Alphonse into the room.

It was more the fact that one of Lust's talons now housed itself inside his left eye-socket, skewering through the slimy meat of his eyeball and greased thinly with a slick sheen of dark blood. She'd been too fast for him. Thank _fuck_she'd been too fast. The Elric copy wobbled a bit as the life dribbled red tears from the corner of it's eye, then it trembled and began to shift back. Swearing under his breath, Edward smacked his free hand against his Automail palm and dropped to the ground, transmuting the earth into a wave which carried Envy's body swiftly across the room to the waiting arms of Alphonse.

"Al! Take him!" He yelled, straining about in Greed's Super-glue fingers, still desperate to yank himself free. The metal boy crouched low, gently barring the thin form from sliding any further with his bulldozer hands. Envy rocked against them, the mud beneath slopping with a glutinous wet sound and lay still, huffing lightly, lost in the agony of birth. Al gasped, his absent cheeks remembering the uncomfortable heat of a blush and he looked away from Envy's naked torso, feeling very much the voyeur. It took a moment for him to remember that Envy _was_actually a boy and he collected himself meekly, curiously running his worn leather fingers over the sticky mound that was rippling with muscular spasms. He simply couldn't imagine how painful it must be for the poor ex-Sin and sympathetically raised his hand to cup the cheek of his pain-scarred face.

"Envy-san," He murmured, slowly, forgetting his earlier scolding for his use of the polite suffix. "Don't worry. We're going to help you. We're going to help you and we're going to help the baby so don't worry..."

The giant hand stayed a second on the tensed cheek. Then Ed's sudden yell of,

"Run... _run!"_

broke through his mesmerized daze and he nodded, clasping Envy's form close as he turned to make a bolt for it.

_Ah, but if only it were that easy._

There was a hollow, punctured _thud_, like a steel drum being impaled by the prongs of a forklift. Al jerked violently, brought to an immediate standstill in his tracks and he squeaked like a little bird caught in a net, rocking on one foot and craning frantically around to see what held him. Three long, glistening skewers protruded from the joint of his knee, pinioning his leg into an 'L' shape and restricting any further movement. Al gasped a little with his non-existent breath as he realized the spikes originated from Greed's left hand: although he was still wearing Ed's face, he'd copied Lust's fingers and had extended them across the room. Lust herself gaped a little. It was as if he was made entirely of clay. Dangerous, cohesive, psychopathic clay.

_And that's what Envy would have been like had they fought him on this level. That's what they would have had to deal with..._

"Greed-san," Al's voice trembled a little, yet it was more from urgency than fear. "P-please don't. He needs a doctor..."

"Sweet little Elric boy," the Sin purred, slowly turning the spines in Al's knee. Of course, he knew this didn't actually _hurt_the kid, but he loved the sound of the groaning, twisting metal and only had to nudge his imagination a _little_bit to convince himself that he had perforated authentic ligaments. "I'm afraid that's totally out of the question."

"Bastard!" Edward spat again and span on his heel, planting the thick sole of his boot under Greed's jaw. It was a blow that, in normal circumstances, would topple any opponent – regardless of their size. Ed had developed a skillfully advanced sense of trajectory and force and he'd been taught well by their Master: his blows being both unexpected and well placed. Yet the Homunculus only grinned a little as took the hit without even flinching.

And Ed grinned back.

_(To your right, fucker...)_

He'd never meant to knock him down in the first place. Only distract him.

And immediately after, Lusts claws shot out, forcing Greed to snap backwards with a grunt, narrowly missing a bayonet through the ear. Edward flicked his wrist as the Sin dodged and finally managed to free his Automail - cursing as he found a few of the artificial tendons had been crushed. Dropping low, he crouched and pushed off, sliding a little as he sprinted on a teetering lean towards his brother, chancing a quick glance to the right to witness Lust advancing to fend Greed away, just as they'd planned. Though he trusted her now, though she appeared to have the best interests of her ailing brother in mind, he wasn't about to make the assumption that she was more powerful than the younger Sin. Oh no. That look in Greed's eyes was all too familiar.

He knew something they didn't.

The bastard couldn't be more obvious with the fact that he was just playing with them – he'd been more straightforward the day his fist had claimed one of Ed's teeth in the garden of the very mansion they were staging their current brawl. Ed could tell that by the way he was so casually allowing close range combat that the chink he'd discovered in the Ultimate shield - which had inevitably caused Greed's second death - was no longer relevant. Achilles had swapped his sandals for reinforced leather boots and stomped over his foes, rejoicing in the successful remedy of his mortal impediment. When Edward had discovered Greed's initial weakness, he'd nearly collapsed in hysterics. It had been so simple – so elementary that mere science and a bit of fundamental knowledge on anatomy had been able to destroy such a creature. Homunculi _were_the same as humans – they had the same bodily makeup in general and were just as easy to kill, you just had to do it in a different way. Death by Chemistry: the mortal and immortal alike were as cheaply made as they were destroyed.

However, _this_Greed. _This_one... Ed really wasn't sure. If what Lust had said was true – if they _were_dependant on the stones once they'd left the Gate, how many could this guy have in his body? Where had he got them from? Who could have provided such a thing? Greed had been the kind of character to insist upon making connections with humans, that was certain. He wasn't fool enough to think he could take over the world on his own and he hadn't been secretive about the fact that he enjoyed having mortal companions - or minions, as he'd dubbed them. Partners, perhaps – though not in the sense that they were on the same level. But for someone to obtain a rare chunk of the incomplete Philosopher's stone? Who could have been hiding such a powerful trinket? It was definitely not your common bargaining chip and it was not a something the average Charlie would have on hand, either. He could only guess that either Greed had infiltrated a military base and perhaps found something hidden there, or he had gotten hold of Tucker. Number one candidate for nervous breakdowns and sporadic behaviour, the Sewing Life Alchemist wasn't famous for his stability of mind – he'd do anything for anyone as long as they promised him some method of regaining his murdered daughter. Still knowledgeable enough to cause damage but too goddamn chicken-shit to own up to it. All bastard and no bite.

Edward grit his teeth a little as he sailed over to his fallen brother. No, it wasn't this easy. It _couldn't_be this easy. He'd been naive before, but he'd learned by now. This Greed knew something. He knew something and he was saving it up. Waiting for the right crucial moment where he knew he'd get a good shot in.

_When it was funny._

Skidding to Al, to home base, Edward had already clapped his palms together in preparation, set to fix the metal boy's mutilated leg. But as he braced himself for the jolt, for the orgasmic current of the transmutation, he found himself flying backwards again, pain screaming and biting on his scalp as Greed yanked on his pigtail. A set of claws dug into the plate of his Automail and he heaved the boy upwards, inertia adding to his insurmountable strength as he sent the young blond hurtling though the air across the room. Edward watched, slightly quizzical, as the rough supports of the ceiling beams flew past his face and he let out a surprised yelp as he landed on Lust who was at that particular moment, spasming painfully while her immortal form choked back into life. Light sizzled and Edward cracked to attention, automatically wary of the alchemic static, though he found it was simply nothing more than Lust's severed limbs replacing themselves while she rejuvenated.

Oh, just her severed limbs.

_(Severed limbs?)_

He turned to look at her, gasping and winded, but had barely shifted his vision before something dug into his throat and dragged him upward into Greed's leering face. The Alchemist wasted no time with caustic looks and instinctively slapped his palms together again, wrapping them around Greed's forearm, forcing the chemical shift in his flesh that would override his carbon shield and rend him momentarily perishable. But instead of shattering as Ed thrust his fist in a beefy uppercut over the affected area, his skin simply remained diamond-hard and repelled the stubby blade.

_(Wha..?)_

"Oh dear, oh dear, wassamatta blondie?" There was nothing but malice and teeth as Greed laughed coldly, tightening his fingers a little on Ed's trachea. "Got a bit of a malfunction? Are you... not performing as well as you should?"

"Shut up!" Ed croaked, twisting in Greed's grip; flailing and kicking as frantically as possible. Damn it, if there was anything Izumi had stressed in her teaching – anything she'd picked out as excruciatingly important in a fight it was: _Not__to__let__your__opponent__get__you__about__the__neck._ For although one _could_twist himself out of this position, it was still a very Dumb Thing To Do. _Especially_when one's opposition could crush granite between his thumb and forefinger – a little bit of cartilage and muscle wasn't going to put up much of a resistance.

Izumi's scolding ringing in his ears – her physical 'learning aides' a not so distant memory - Ed hung a moment, contemptuous gold anchored upon violet, before he clapped his hands and tried again.

Still nothing.

_(Bugger... )_

"You're really disappointing me here," Greed sneered nastily. "I'm giving you all these free shots and you still can't work it out? I guess you're not the alchemic genius you thought you were..."

He squeezed. Hard. Edward choked and shuddered, rasping as his air was entirely cut off and his windpipe squashed against his spine, denting like a cardboard tube.

"Or perhaps I should give you another shot, hmm?" Greed's eyes rolled back in ecstatic pleasure as his form rippled and morphed again, skin ballooning as though it were pumped full of air, then hardening, flattening and becoming a cool, steel-like substance. Coldness brushed against the bottom of his jaw and the claws pressing into Ed's neck become five thick, leather fingers of a curious, inflated composition.

Edward growled as best he could against the restrictions. Al. He'd made himself Al. The _asshole_had made himself into his little brother. Which wasn't as much a shock factor as it was an _irritation._No one got away with bastardizing the youngest Elric's form – temporary or no. Even if they _were_currently strangling him, Edward wasn't going to let the smarmy sod get away with it.

No, because _this_time, _he_was the one with the speckle of clandestine knowledge to his benefit. One didn't spend four years traveling with their armor-clad sibling and not learn a thing or two about the properties of his costume – in both advantage and disadvantage.

Edward found himself momentarily admiring Greed's work, namely his fairly keen attention to detail. It wasn't flawless – quite the contrary. He'd gotten the number of the spikes on the pauldron wrong and the entire surface of the hammered steel was blissfully clear of the scratches and dents Al had accumulated over time – rather like a boy going through the blemish phase of puberty. But the rest was quite commendable. The little dent in the edge of his handguard where he'd accidentally smacked it against the side of the train, the creases of the fingers of his gauntlets where normal joints of a finger would be, the way the fingers themselves were not entirely solid – they gave a little with the pressure, as actual skin gave. As flesh gave, even though it wasn't flesh.

Some part of the metal shifted in a very tell-tale way.

Ed, despite the fact that he was starting to see white spots dancing in front of his eyes and could just feel his lips turning blue, smirked ever so slightly. He may not know how Greed was deflecting his alchemic blows, how he managed to overcome his primary weakness but he did know something _else..._

_(A mimicry of Al... Incredible detail... Precise. Almost totally to the letter...)_

_( How helpful...)_

"Now what would it feel like I wonder?" Greed was still talking. He did that when no one made a move to shut him up. "To be killed by your own brother?"

"Greed-san, no!" Al cried .

"How disappointing to leave this world knowing that you'll never be able to return him to his real body – instead you'll be garroted by his own hand."

"Yeah..." Ed rasped with difficulty, his legs pinwheeling in the air as he struggled. "Well there's...something...inter...resting 'bout Al's hands... that you... probably don't know..."

"Oh?" Greed's eyes sparkled. "And what's that?"

"They come off."

"The midget's here..."

_(Midget..? )_

"Yeah, he's come to rescue you, would you believe? Fuck, how sickening..."

_(Ed's here..?)_

There was a stretched, painful moment. Envy blinked slowly, vaguely noting that his eyelids seemed incredibly weighted and felt as though they were being dragged through glue. His vision was of no use anymore, details had smudged themselves out in heavy handed chiaroscuro and the whirling white spots persisted in hovering about the frayed edges of his sight, uneager to leave their dance floor. Rendered partially deaf by thrum of his pulse pounding in his ears, Envy rolled his eyes around a little, testing, feeling the cold blobs of tears caught in the fans of his lashes. He had moved... the sludge beneath him was different, firmer – not so liquid or reminiscent of a mud bath. Greed didn't seem to be in the immediate vicinity either, and that was a great relief. It was nice not to have his voice scraping the vellum off his eardrums and his claws knotted in his hair.

Thoughts of escaping drifted through his mind like cotton ghosts, though they were far too flimsy for him to pounce upon. He doubted 'pouncing' was left in his muscular vocabulary anyway: he could barely move. Blankness had spread further in a plague of soft, feathery nothing, bleeding up his limbs until his legs felt like lumps of wax and his arms were heavy, swollen balloons. The hip that had been injured twitched occasionally in protest, but on the whole, the anesthetization of his body from the birth trauma encompassed all: from the rawness of the rope burns on his wrists to the clenching muscles of his deluded uterus. Everything had become drained, washed out. Worn. The room was blurring, turning faint and numb as though his letterboxed vision had been shaded by a pane of frosted glass: rippled and warped and slightly off-kilter. Nothing was really registering anymore, the plugs were sinking into the wrong sockets, sizzling in annoyance when the connection wasn't made and it created a frighteningly disorientated atmosphere which reduced Envy's state of mind to a downward spiraling, chilly stream of helplessness. He'd been a loose wire to begin with, yet what little control he'd managed to snatch he'd guarded with all his strength.

Now that his strength had gone, however, the jurisdiction over himself was sieving away: slowly, but surely, dusting through his shaking fingers. He felt so damn heavy, so goddamn _heavy_ and it bothered him. Not directly. Not immediately, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he ought to be worried at the sensation – or possibly the fact that he was _losing_his sense of sensation.

(But Ed's here. Ed's here. It's okay if Ed's here, right? He's the good guy, he makes things better...)

Only, the pain...

The pain was... Well, it was... It had gone... or at least part of it had. The agony seemed so much less terrible than it had before: that biting fire, smoldering on the end of every nerve had snuffed itself out. Disappeared and in return replaced itself with an unfamiliar icy detachment that got him thinking perhaps he was still in pain, but his brain could no longer acknowledge it.

Still he _really_didn't like the sound of his rusty breathing, nor the way the air, as plentiful as it was about the cellar, had suddenly become thin and unattainable. There was an empty spot in his lungs that he just couldn't quite satisfy and it tore at him obsessively, a thirst, an itch. His body shuddered and twitched in weak convulsions - nerves trying to relay all the damage reports all at once. He felt both cold and feverishly hot at the same time, the strain of childbirth angrily clawing over the heavy stolid blanket of shock that had settled over his form. Biological imperative doggedly pawed at his pelvis, offering some rather tempting urges to push, to try and force the goddamned thing out of him, but his blood loss and dropping temperature had seized command of his senses, tantalizing him with velvety promises of mulling all sensation. If only he'd just _surrender_to them.

(But Ed's here... Ed's here... The good guys win don't they? That's what the story books said...)

There was freezing metal surrounding him... it was cold. Fuck, it was cold...

Envy let out another broken moan, squirming pathetically in Al's hands as the armor cradled his convulsing body close, clutching at him tightly, worried that he was slipping out of his deadened grasp. He continued his tedious attempt to try to move the both away from the center of activity, muttering gentle comforts to his delirious passenger, though he knew Envy had not recognized him. The tired ex-Sin only felt the chill of the steel gauntlets encircling his spindly ribs, the pressure of his rough leather fingers pressing into his back and there was little else he could do for him. It was like trying to ask a tired toddler what they were crying about, the only answer he could get was a weak shove as Envy wriggled again, pushing his palms against Al's breastplate, gasping, his face deathly pale in contrast with the bright spots of blush slathered across the high points of his cheeks.

"It's alright, Envy," He whispered as soothingly as he could manage. "We'll get you to a doctor soon..."

_A doctor?_

There was a snort and then laughter. From somewhere to Envy's left, away from the coldness, away from that _groping,_someone chuckled.

"A doctor? I shouldn't think a doctor's gonna help much when you're ringing Death's doorbell, do you?"

Envy stopped trying to escape the smothering glaum and craned to look around Al's vambrace.

And saw. Himself.

_Himself..._

_(Now I know I'm going mad..)_

"After all," He grinned. _It_ grinned. The _other__one_grinned, crossing chiseled arms over a well-crafted chest. "We already know how useful doctors are, don't we? We saw a lot of them, a long time ago. And a fat lot of good they did us..."

Envy nodded, stupidly, his head rocking forward and backward in mute affirmative. He was probably dreaming, no, the other word – hallucinating. Though why he would envision himself was a little disconcerting. He wasn't Pride...

_He wasn't Envy either though, was he?_

But then, this one, the one that wassupposed to be him... how very different it looked. Certainly it was an effigy of his person, a facsimile – yet not from the cast of the creature he'd become: the weak, mortal, alive thing. No, it chose to bear his previous form - the sublime composition that he'd _concocted,_the visage he'd engineered for the sole purpose of ousting Greed from his mother's whimsy – a cleverly compiled disguise to seduce the Shark Man away. Of course, Envy'd never been _too_sure on what he'd do once he _had_lured the man into his green little fingers, but it couldn't be _that_difficult to entertain him, right? If it really came down to it, he could wrestle just fine. And the questionable moaning and groaning in accompaniment? Well, once again, not difficult. Strange, but do-able, whatever floats your boat.

It _was_him. Exactly the same person only... perfect. It stared at him as he stared at _it;_with the same inquisitive violet eyes, the same crimple of bemusement puckering it's brow and Envy noticed a thin coating of disgust sitting lightly on his features like a layer of clingfilm. His copy wasn't _looking_at him as much as he was _sizing__him__up._ Measuring his potential as a threat. Indubitably, Envy was doing the same in return, yet he felt it was a little unnecessary on the other's part. The only vague menace _he_ could pose at the moment was to up and die, possibly vomit or have a baby all over him and in Envy's particularly unsystematic world of knowledge, these instances weren't exactly dire.

Slightly humorous, possibly, but not dire.

The Ideal shifted a little, unfolding his arms to hug one knee close, conversationally, linking his hands at his ankle. The gaze that was at first calculating, leveled and subjected him to a cool, slightly disassociated glare. Envy shuddered. He'd used that look many times. Mostly the people he'd been instructed to make 'disappear'.

"A crock of shit, all that medical buggery." He stated again, more to himself than anyone. No pun intended. "'Cause it didn't do us any good in the end, did it?"

"No." Envy attempted, testing his voice that had erstwhile seized into rickets from the force of the pain, and was surprised to find he could speak quite freely. The beauty of delusion – the world can be as perfect or as fucked up as you want it to be, so long as you're looking at it wonky. "I died."

"You did. And Father's to blame."

He ignored that.

"Who are you?"

The Ideal sneered.

"Who do you _think_ I am, dumbfuck? You!"

"No, I'm me. You can't be me because... because... _I'm_me." Envy mumbled. It didn't fit. It was right, but it still didn't fit.

"Yeah, well I _am_you too. The better you. The _best_you. The you that you forgot, after you became..." He clicked his tongue irritably, briskly surveying the damaged wreck of a figure before him. "Whatever you are."

Envy flinched suddenly, realizing the puzzle was very different to the picture advertised on the box. He'd imagined that, even though it was broken, he'd be able to put the pieces back together and it would be the same. For memory remains – always remains. And yet... the image emerging was something quite radically different from what he'd expected and he was at a loss at what parts went where. The construction was, without question, mortal – but was it correct to call it human? _Could_he call himself human? Was that fair? Was that right?

Did he _want_to?

_(Whatever I am... That's right... Humans are 'whatevers' to him... To me... Or what I was...)_

"I'm human."

_(May as well try... )_

"Tch," the other snorted, eager to dispense the disdain. "You can't be, you don't have a soul. Soulless things aren't allow to be human. Them's the rules."

"I know that, but that's what it feels like. And that's what Greed said."

"Greed doesn't know shit. Greed's a fuckwit who can't keep his... his... _cock_ in his pants and his hands out of everyone else's. Greed is nothing to you."

There was a slight giggle. After the derogatory term for penis, the Ideal's hand flew over his mouth, his shoulders shaking as he said a _bad__word_. He clearly wasn't comfortable using it. Sex was still a mystery to this Envy and Dante had never liked him referring to _it_. She wanted nothing to do with his sexual equipment, no matter how flawless he'd boasted it was.

"Greed _is_me... now...Is you..."

The mirage grunted again, squirming a little. Annoyance darted over the cool facade, an expression he'd exploited often – and fondly.

"Only 'cause _you_ went and screwed everything up."

Envy found himself laughing. On the inside, it was easy – his usual chuckle ringing sardonic mirth in his ears. But he felt it on the outside as well, and tensed at the gritty, sawdust sensation in his throat as his Adam's apple grated painfully. His chest tightened and yet he continued, unable to stop. Oh, and this one could talk! Screwing things up? Who was screwed in the first place?

_(Wake up and smell the mortality, kiddo. There's a lot more to everyone than you ever knew)_

"His... name is Edward, not 'Everything up'."

It hadn't been expecting that. It wouldn't have _known_to expect that – had Envy the knowledge he'd accumulated over a mere nine months of embarrassment, pain and discovery, he'd never have let himself end up like this. Probably. Maybe. But then again, what man in their right mind would ever think they could get _pregnant?_Even in a woman's body... the notion was just ludicrous! Boys don't have babies... Boys just... don't.

And _at_that comment, the irritation which skewed his doppelganger's beautiful face burst into complete, _violated_outrage. Blushing lips pressed hard against themselves, furiously bending into a sneer and the glowing eyes narrowed, seething with discontent.

"You're disgusting," it spat.

"Am I?"

"Of course. You're mortal, a pissant, you're nothing."

Envy found he had no retaliation, nor even a want to protest. How ridiculous was it to try and change his _own_opinion – for either team facing off, he would have known better than that. And he _knew_he'd know better, for he _was_both himself and the creature that sat regarding him – he _was_the eyes that saw perfection and the eyes that scowled darkly upon deterioration.

One could always wonder what the mirror would say, had it possessed the ability to speak; whether one agreed with the other was a different kettle of fish entirely. The _real_question was: had this antecedent version realized he'd been duped for longer than he could remember? That he'd been directed, controlled, _manipulated_like some laboratory mouse – running the endless wheel for a piece of moldy cheese that in turn would probably kill him anyway. Dante _had_been... patient. Accepting in a brushing overview kind of way – but in the end, a tool was a tool.

_(That and I really am off my rocker...)_

_(But Ed's here... He's here to help me... He didn't really want me to go... )_

"I'm not nothing." He stated, firmly, re-establishing what Edward had said months back in the bedroom. He hated to say Edward was right, but he hated being spoken to like a rotten piece of meat even more. The Old Envy got to say that kind of thing to the lowly humans – not himself. That was pushing it.

"You're weak."

"I'm not."

"You're fat."

"I'm _pregnant."_

The Ideal shuddered, squirming again, changing his position to sit on his knees. He leant backward a little, as if to stay away from Envy, lest he catch something. The sneer on its face tremble and it pressed it's palms together between its thighs. It was disturbed – the idea of intercourse and the inevitable results sickened it, turned its empty stomach into a queasy mess and slashed a dollop of thick line on the point of it's nose. Violet eyes rolled down to take in the queer sight of itself with child and it swallowed hard – though it had no need to- at Envy's distorted middle.

"With... with that _bastard's_baby." He glared at the extremely prominent evidence as though he wanted to flee and vomit at the same time. "You let him touch you. You let him... put something inside you. He _infected_you!"

_Well,__I__guess__I__did__view__the__shorty__as__some__kind__of__parasite,_Envy mused, wryly. _But__was__I__really__this__immature__about__it?_

He laughed inwardly and flashed a short, tired smile.

"He gave me cooties."

It was more to amuse himself than anything and he watched as his copy's marvelous throat shudder with a pulsing gag, to witness his resplendent form curl up, anemone-like, in revolted shock. And _as_he looked upon his writhing, scowling former self he wondered just _why_he'd chosen such an ambiguous silhouette. Notably, it was to keep Greed preoccupied and away from his beloved mother – if he could _really_call her that - but really... that outfit... wasn't the skort just a little bit...well... And the hair... The outrageous spray of greenish-black tendrils. It was long because he knew that Greed had preferred it that way, but the colour? The texture? Hadn't he ever picked up on the fact that the style he'd chosen was humorously reminiscent of a common household succulent? That his supposedly fashionable coif held all the style and grace of an_aloe__suprafoliata_andhe was mildly surprised that the green-fingered Dante hadn't ever taken a cutting to try and sprout in the garden?

_(Did people actually find me threatening like this, or were they just too polite to laugh?)_

"And I made a mistake," He continued after a moments inflection. "But I found that mistakes are forgiven, even by the most unlikely of people. That's how humans progress..."

"Dante didn't forgive you!" the Ideal snorted. "She never came, right? To save you! That's why you're here now!"

"It's more of a matter of her sticking to whatever she has planned," Envy said, slowly closing his eyes. "She never cared in the first place, she'll only strive to do something if she's going to make a profit of sorts from it."

"You're wrong! She loved us... Dan- Mother... she loved us!"

Envy twitched a little at that, but he needn't open his eyes again to witness the aggravated confusion directed at him. No, he'd seen it many times as he'd looked in the large, gilded mirror in the hallway of Dante's bedroom, trying to make sense of his body which bore the usual human template, yet lacked in mortality – in life. He'd been much younger then and hadn't really understood the fact that he'd died and had been reborn. It had been to jarring: to be reincarnated as some sort of primordial human mulch and left to suffer as such for more than a century. Envy hadn't been able to think at that stage, his world have only been comprised of darkness, confusion and pain; his only anchor, his light, his bookmark in existence was his mother. She sang to him, she cared for him. Fed him treats of something that was so good, so filling, that was all the tastes in the world and at the same time, none of them. She called him her lovely. But when he could care for himself, when he no longer spewed viscous yellow gunk involuntarily or bled from an exposed organ of whose membrane was so delicate the air itself proved corrosive, Mother had started acting… differently. Business-like. Withdrawn. She dropped the pet names and called him Envy. She sent him away while she entertained her 'special guests'. She introduced him to his new brothers and sisters and consigned them to his care and direction – not that he fully understood what he was doing. But she loved him didn't she? He was still her son, her lovely, even if he wasn't truthfully _himself_anymore. She loved him. And she wouldn't leave him like Daddy did.

She loved him.

Mother, who are all these other men? Mother, why can't I come into your room at night? I'm scared, mother... Comfort me? Why won't you look at me, mother? Did I do something wrong?

_(She's not my mother... She hasn't been for a long, long time...)_

Two centuries later, Dante had found her bedroom mirror smashed to pieces and her 'son' having switched blond for brackish, gold for purple and hope for resentment in acquiescence his name.

Envy...

"Dante, even when she _was_our mother, never loved us."

"Liar!"

"I'm not. It's the truth. She used us..." Envy chewed over Greed's words a little, finding that although the truth was bitter, it was satisfying. Filled him up. "She used us to keep him around. From the day we were born, no _conceived,_she used us."

"_No!"_His copy hollered, slamming his fist on the floor. "We're her number one, _I'm_her number one! Her _best_son, her _best!_You're _lying!_That _bastard_left us, he's to blame!"

"I'm not saying he isn't," Envy sighed, feeling uncharacteristically patient. "I hate him and I will _always_hate him, but she isn't particularly unsullied either. You know she used us, you just never... None of us could ever..."

Leave. None of them could ever leave. Because they were dolls that needed owners. Because they were animals that had to be leashed, lest the world got a hint of the demons that still thrived within it – free from their storybook cages. Dante was reservedly self absorbed, arrogant if not a little batty on occasion, yet she was _master_at time. She released her soldiers in little dribs and drabs of decimation – utilizing their powers _only_when her plentiful human toys couldn't do the job for themselves. The world had alchemy. It had science and technology. It was long past the days of gallivanting hordes and knights and dragons. Now it was guns, guerilla warfare, and power... lots and lots of magnanimous power.

Well, as much as she let them have. The world didn't need the superhuman homunculi – not yet. Not while the humans still valued their precious souls so much. But soon. Yaldabaoth would wait, calculating hungrily while the humans painted the sky with fire and destruction in a false sunrise – the sound of gunshot and glory heralding the triumphance of mortal sin, _then_she'd send her horsemen out to reap, to rape, to kill.

The world only needed to be reminded of its failures every hundred years or so. After all... humans were really the worst things for it. They were stupid. Stupid, plain dullards who had no idea, no _concept_of the greater good.

She _was_saving them from themselves... right?

Hallelujah.

_(But this one didn't know that yet...)_

"Lying! You're lying! You cheat! You fibber!" It screeched at him, clawing the ground and tearing thick lines of earth. Molten fury was its eyes and it snarled like Blake's demons. "You _know_why we didn't!"

"I know... And I understand. Like you never did."

"You're gonna die," The violet orbs of boiling plasma narrowed. "You're gonna die and you'll _never_get him."

"No," Envy writhed a little, trying to sink out of the encircling coldness. He couldn't quite believe it, but he found himself wishing for the pain again. The chill told him nothing. The pain told him he was alive and at least trying to fight.

The coldness was his body losing.

"No... I won't die yet."

"You will! You will and it'll all be over. You'll have achieved _nothing!"_

"I won't." Reinstated. Perhaps if he said it enough… Envy bit back a groan as he felt his muscles seize again, signaling the baby's continuation of his Great Escape. "I won't die."

The hallucination faded a little as it clammed up, pressing its lips together tightly. It was unlikely to listen but the being before it was so... convinced. He'd always had a hard time breaking people like that – especially at first. Generally he'd try a few persuasive tactics: a few fractured fingers, maybe removing an ear or two, but there wasn't much he could do to this pathetic illusion of himself now, was there? Seemed like he was already in enough pain to begin with.

And besides, this one, this... _him__…_He was not afraid. Not scared of dying, or living, or being.

Not afraid.

The Jealousy rose.

_Round and round the mulberry bush, You stupid bastard..._

"_It's__past__your__bedtime,__boy.__What__are__you__still__doing__up?"_

"_I__couldn't__sleep,__Father."_

"_Do__you__not__feel__well?"_

"_I've__been__ill__since__Tuesday,__Father.__I'm__sorry__I__haven't__been__able__to__get__out__of__bed__to__help__you.__But__since__I'm__here__now__… __And__I__haven't__seen__you__for__so__long__… __Will__you__tell__me__a__story?"_

"_No.__I'm__busy.__Go__back__to__bed."_

"_Please?__Just__a__short__one?__I__promise__I'll__go__straight__to__sleep!"_

_A sigh. The shift of a chair. Bespectacled golden orbs, tarnished with fatigue and time scrutinize the impassive face of the mantle clock._

_Ten fourteen in the evening. Still early._

"_A__short__one,"__He__agreed._

_Young feet, also weighted by tiredness, tripped over the floorboards and stopped short at the Father's knee. Identical eyes, larger, less myopic, gazed up with absolute devotion and joy as the book on the table was shut with a muffled, powdery hollow whuff. The spectacles turned to face him, candlelight playing upon the glass surface, causing an odd double exposure of the sunny irises beneath. Elbows rested on knees, hands linked between them, in space._

"_I__haven't__told__you__many__stories,__have__I?"_

"_All__the__ones__you've__told__me__I__remember,__Father."_

"_You__do?"_

_Nod._

"_Every__word."_

_Surprise. Followed by contemplation. A scaling of the internal libraries._

"_Have__I__ever__told__you__the__story__about__the__Empress'__Paper__Cranes?"_

"_No__Father...__What__are__cranes?"_

"_Birds.__Great__big__white__birds__with__long,__long__necks.__They're__indigenous__to__Xing."_

"_That__means__they__live__there?__What__did__they__do?"_

"_It's__not__what__the__cranes__did,__it's__what__they__represented."__A__smile.__If__there__was__one__thing__that__amused__the__golden__man,__it__was__innocence.__Children__should__always__be__seen__and__heard__ –__it__was__the__learned__ones__that__caused__the__damage.__"You__see,__the__people__of__Xing__were__very__fond__of__the__art__of__paper__folding__ – __that's__making__shapes__and__animals__out__of__paper."_

"_Like__we__do__with__clay?"_

"_Yes.__Like__we__do__with__clay.__Now__a__long,__long__time__ago__in__Xing__there__was__a__young__Empress__ – __not__much__older__than__yourself__-__who__was__fair__and__just__and__loved__by__everyone.__But__one__day__she__told__her__handmaidens__that__she__wasn't__feeling__well__and__was__put__to__bed.__However,__even__with__rest__she__only__got__worse__and__the__palace__doctor__said__she__had__developed__a__terrible__sickness__and__only__had__a__few__months__left__to__live."_

"_That's__awful..."_

_Storyteller paused a moment, thumbing the curve of a knuckle as he surveyed his responsive audience – thin, grey-skinned and wan, a rag of a boy. Only his eyes showed his true nature, bright and shiny and feverishly intelligent. Yet they too had dulled from the sickness and were red-rimmed and sore, watering constantly, which in turn caused the boy to sniff._

"_Awful...__Yes.__Well__this__made__the__Empress__very__sad.__But__one__night,__as__she__lay__crying__in__her__sickbed,__the__oldest__of__her__advisors__came__into__her__room__and__handed__her__a__little__crane__made__out__of__folded__paper.__He__told__her__that__if__she__were__able__to__make__a__thousand__of__them,__she__could__wish__her__illness__away__and__be__well__again."_

"_What__did__the__crane__look__like__Father?"_

_Scrape of paper on the desk, the creak of a chair. A few rustling noises later, the boy was presented with a messy, yet accurate rendition of the Xingan origami. The child grinned, showing a set of yellowing teeth, riddled with decay. Gums that should have been pink were blackening lumps of slimy flesh. His breath was enough to make the papers on the table curl at the edges, but his occasionally doting parent did not seem to notice._

"_Father...?"__The__boy__said__after__awhile._

"_Yes?"_

"_Did__the__Empress__make__the__all__of__the__cranes?"_

_A moment for further recollection._

"_Mm,__as__far__as__I__remember__the__story__goes.."_

"_And__did__she__get__better__and__live__happily__ever__after?"_

_The man who was later to be known as Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim, then the pseudonym Paracelsus, then Hohenheim Elric, then Hohenheim of Light looked upon his only son, weak and dying with an illness of which no cure had been discovered, not with all the searching in the world, not with all the power, books or knowledge, and smiled gently. White lies were a coward's cure, but an effective one._

"_Yes.__Yes__she__did."_

There was a discordant grinding as metal chafed metal then the fleshless hand of Alphonse's doppelganger lost its grip from around Ed's neck and fell harmlessly to the floor of the cellar with a _splick_ . In less time than it took for Greed to realize what_exactly_had happened, Edward had dropped to his feet and blasted him away with another tsunami of molten earth, smothering the Homunculus as best he could in layers of stinking, fetid mud and apple-muck. Racing to clear the immediate danger, Ed felt the coolness of metal razor his cheek and, chancing a brisk glance backwards, nearly planted his face in the puddley floor, skidding a little as he froze in mid-stride at the sight of the Fuhrer, King Bradley, aiming a second of his four swords at Ed's retreating back.

"Come now, Fullmetal... He's the enemy."

Edward faltered, his legs treading the sloppy earth. But it wasn't at the _sight_of his commander appearing before him, no. What surprised him the most was how Greed could possibly _know_who Bradley was... Certainly the Military Dictator was as famous as a God – the term 'Fuhrer', if worn correctly was synonymous with victory and suggested an apt portrayal of the assimilation of power and progression but… Why would he choose _this_particular figure to use against him? What had he guessed about their relationship to one another?

"He's _not_the enemy!" Edward spat, regardless.

"Of course he is," Bradley drawled with cursory tolerance as he lobbed another poker Ed's way. "He's a Homunculus. The Homunculi are the evil ones. You don't befriend evil things, Edward, all they're going to do is stab you in the back..."

"Isn't _that_ironic?" Edward snarled, narrowly missing the blade as it whizzed past his Automail arm, effortlessly opening up his sleeve. "You might do a good impersonation, Greed, but you just _can't_lose the lame puns, can you?"

"Greed? Who's Greed?" Bradley was charging at him now, his neat, verge-moustache humping like a large black caterpillar from the smirk beneath it. Not the Fuhrer's smirk. The Homunculus _knew_he couldn't trick Ed so easily, but he didn't seem to care. This was _fun._

"_You_are..." Ed hissed, sidestepping as he drew his blade, the clap of his hands synchronic slap with the sound of the soldiers' boots in the mud. "Because you're _not_King Bradley. The Fuhrer doesn't _throw_his swords. Have you even _used_a sword?"

"Have you?" Greed purred, effortlessly slipping back to his own form as though he were shrugging off Bradley's guise like a coat. He lunged forward again, claws skating over the negative space between himself and Edward's side. The Alchemist was speedier than he let on, in fact, he seemed even _faster_ than he'd been in their skirmish the year before. Had he been holding back the first time? Didn't he _need_to be strong to beat Greed, the old Greed, the dead Greed.

_(Baby's back, love. And you can be as fast as you like, because when I kill you, you die. When you kill me, I don't.)_

"I know that you don't throw them." Ed repeated, lying through his teeth. Majihal had met his death in such a way, but Greed didn't need to know that. Besides, even if a saber _wasn't_his weapon of choice, a halberd was pretty damn similar, wasn't it? It was… sharp. Pointy. And generally when one had an object of the aforementioned pointy, sharp variety in his possession, one didn't toss it away for another to monopolize. He made a point of this by snatching up one of the discarded sabres and swiping at Greed's shin as he came toward him. Naturally this had no effect, save for a short, blunt scrape as the steel hit the Homunculi's carbon armor, yet it gave Edward room to back off. The further the distance he got from Greed the better. Alchemy didn't seem to be working, nor were his combat skills so all he had left was speed and strategy.

And Lust, of course, who didn't take kindly to being ignored and raced back to the scene - claws out again, aiming for Greed's eyes. She was so damned fast, if Edward had the time, he'd be incredibly jealous. But it seemed, as swift as she was, it wasn't_quite_ fast enough…

"No! Lust! Take Envy! Take him!" Ed yelled as, for the second time, she was thrown aside. But not before Greed had bent the offending claws back against themselves, twisting mercilessly as an earthquake does the iron supports of a building. A dominative force, was Greed. Unstoppable and uncaring and unthinkable; he knew the secret handshake of the Four; even a tornado was slightly more human. Cyclones had eyes of calm; Greed had a momentary pause to change tactics. Lust screamed, long and loud, the sound throbbing through Edward's body as he panted, sweat trickling over his fingers and dampening his hair and he winced as Greed plunged a third blade through the centre left of her chest, pinning her to the ground. There she was caught, gasping like a fish on a hook as her body convulsed - caught in and endless cycle of life and death. She'd revive, as the stones forced her to, cough and spasm for a couple of seconds, then die again at the shock of being impaled through the heart.

"Take him where, Blondie?" Greed smirked, shifting once again, his body rounding, becoming convex in places, forming soft hips and breasts, clothes, sandals and dreadlocks. Izumi looked back at her student with unnaturally cobalt eyes. It seemed Greed hadn't studied her _quite_as closely. "Back to my place? I always wanted a kid, you know..."

"You're not Izumi," Ed stated, lamely, bouncing from one foot to the other. The less time he spent in the mud, the better. It would be all over if his shoe was to get stuck - he'd be breathing out a new hole in his chest in no time. "And don't tell me you spied on _her_too!"

"Can't help doing a _little_research, that doctor fellow had plenty of useful information."

"Izumi doesn't have blue eyes, Greed."

"She doesn't?"

"She doesn't."

"You're sure?"

"You're not Izumi, Greed."

"No I'm not," The Izumi copy shrugged. "But could you punch me, Edward? Could you kill me? With this face and all..."

Edward shook his head a little, grinding his teeth.

"Shut the hell up - you know nothing about me! Sure, you picked up on a few facts here and there, but you didn't _really_find anything, did you? You're wearing her face, albeit incorrectly, thinking that I wouldn't take you on if you asked? What makes you think I wouldn't _damn__well__try_!"

"Well come _on_then..." Izumi taunted, sneering at him – an expression she probably hadn't used past kindergarten years. "Let's see you beat the crap out of this old woman, this poor _sick_woman..."

_(He wants me to come because close-range combat is all he's good for. If I keep my distance, it's easier to try and get a hit in. And he can't use Alchemy. No matter who he is, he still can't use it...)_

"Cry me a river," Ed snarled, taking a few steps forward while clapping his hands to create another mud-monster – something to trap Greed this time, crush him maybe. Ed hunkered down, slamming his hands into the muck. But just as the light sizzled, cracking as the alchemy surged into the soft ground, something slammed into the joint of his Automail, severing the exposed cables as it went. Ed yelled as a nerve connector was ripped from its framework and stripped of its plastic sheath. Another _shunk_signaled a second attack, the prong piercing through a chink in his 'mail, a gap near the hinge joint of his elbow.

_I__told__Winry__that__part__needed__extra__plating__there!_He found himself thinking as his nerve connectors went absolutely spastic, the grotesque sensation being on par with bending a fingernail backwards, or teeth champing down hard into a wad of tinfoil. And then there was the pain. Well there was plenty of that. In fact, pain really wasn't the best word to describe it, if Greed were to kill Edward there and then, the Alchemist probably would have preferred it over the agony his raw nerves felt against even the mere chill of the air – which had turned hot and thick around them, their movements throwing up clouds of dust and debris.

Edward screamed, lips clawing back over his teeth as Greed pried another length of cabling from his arm.

"Mm, Automail's great isn't it?" He chuckled, slowly stripping off the protective laminate while Ed writhed beneath him, desperately trying not to acknowledge his other arm – though it wasn't working. "I mean, you can be as reinforced as you like, as indestructible as you like, but in the end, there's still a body underneath it all, isn't there? Attached to it. Powering it. There's still organic pieces left, and that's what people like me will go for."

"People like you should _go__to__hell..."_

"Oh, but I didn't do anything wrong," Greed sucked on his bottom lip, the thin skin about his eyes crinkling in delight as Edward's scream heralded another sparking, severed connector. "You ought to be like us if you don't want to feel pain, Edward. Immortal. I could use someone like you, you know..."

"And I could use..." Ed shuddered, his foot on Greed's shoulder as he tried to lever himself away. "Your _head_on a pike... to put in my front yard... to ward away the bastards who think they can ruin my life _again!"_

"Yes, yes," Greed said, dismissively, toying with another wire before he gripped Ed's wrist with his left paw, wrenched the other from the boy's shoulder and began twisting his hand around the _way__it__wasn't__supposed__to__go._

"Hey Eddie… What's the sound of one hand clapping?"

"Fuck you! You rat-shit fucking arsehole piece of bastard! Fuck you!"

"Oh dear, looks like Mr. Thesaurus has deserted us again," The Homunculus continued over the groaning, yielding steel. "Come on, come on. What's the sound of one hand clapping? It's an easy one! I'll even give you a clue: it goes something like '_Aaaaaaargh!'"_

Greed twisted and pulled again, as eager as a child tugging at a loose tooth. The Automail squealed, metal warping, and finally the joint gave, Edward's hand shattering beneath blackened fingers. It didn't hurt him, not there, nerve connectors weren't needed so far down his arm, and though Greed was only momentarily surprised by this, the pause bought Ed enough time to curl up and plant his Automail foot in Greed's face again, squirming backward in the slick mud.

"Nii-san!" Al cried from the other side of the room as Ed tussled in the Sin's grip, his boot slamming against the other's chest. A fleshless gauntlet dug into the mud, impulsively etching the familiar pattern of a transmutation array on the surface of the soft earth. Al knew he couldn't do much from where he was, perhaps simply knock Greed away again as he had in the basement of the Devil's Nest in Dublith. It wasn't a hell of a lot, certainly no _deux__ex__machina,_ but it was something. Only the flash of alchemy caught Greed's eye and he shoved forwards, remembering, almost with Pavlovian instinct, that the blue light was not Good News and the crest of earth broke harmlessly over the point in which he'd been standing. Ed snarled, tangled haplessly in Greed's long legs. Al gasped, embarrassed and hunched over to try again when a wavering, broken mewl from his lap stayed his hands. The metal boy's vision rolled down to meet dazed, glassy eyes that stare back at him almost disbelievingly. A single brow twitched, too exhausted to frown but bravely attempting the action regardless. Envy was awake...

"_A-al..."_

"Y-yeah. It's me." Al tried to make his voice smile a bit. It was really the best he could do as his bedside manner was only _really_applicable to those who knew him, those who were used to his expressionless facade. "Nii-san's here too. And Lust-san. Don't worry, you're going to be alright."

"_Ed?"_

Thin fingers curled around the edges of Al's breastplate and the younger boy nodded, shifting his grip around Envy's boney frame. He didn't like the way the ex-Sin had turned a sickly pale colour, nor did he like the waxy sheen to his skin. He looked worse than Ed, preceding his Automail surgery and was breathing very much like his stricken brother had when he found him, torn and bloody, mutilated, propped up against the far wall of their cellar-laboratory. His rough fingers found their way onto Envy's forehead, pushing his sodden hair back from his face and surprisingly, the other leaned into his hand, keening sharply as his fingers flew to his belly, tightening on the slick, grubby bulge.

"The baby hurts... doesn't it?" Al was trying not to panic as Envy's face twisted in the sheer agony of a muscular contraction. He was backing up a little now, deciding that aiding Ed would be futile if Envy was to suffer. He couldn't move very well, not with a mangled leg that was still attached by sheer willpower alone, instead managing a sort of bottom-shuffle that, minus the circumstances, would have been particularly amusing to the casual onlooker. Getting Envy out of the line of fire seemed like a fairly decent plan and happened to be what they'd arranged in the first place anyway, so dutifully backward he wriggled.

Envy only gasped in reply, closing his eyes again, trying to shut out the pain.

Back in the fray, Greed let out an irritated growl, swiping at Ed's steel foot as his heel plunged, once again, into the concrete curve of his cheek. It didn't hurt, it was just… damn annoying; as amazing as he was he couldn't actually see _through_the stunted shit's shoddy little foot! His claws scraped up a shower of sparks from the offending limb, and grated disappointingly on the metal plating. Edward rolled back, body flipping over himself to twist out of Greed's claws, shedding wires and broken cabling from the mangled stump of his wrist. Oh bloody great balls on fire, this was just _perfect._Without another hand he wasn't able to perform transmutations as easily, and Greed would catch him if he tried to scrawl an array into the soft earth. He wasn't sure if the Sin actually _knew_how that style of alchemy worked, but he wasn't stupid, he wouldn't just let Ed doodle in the mud in the midst of battle. Ed cursed his foul luck and bit his lip, bouncing on his toes in kinetic readiness as the Homunculus straightened, casually stretching his spine out, fingers tightening around a dangling wire from the dismembered appendage and he swung it jovially back and forth.

_(How fun, that's one wing off the fly. Let's watch him buzz in circles, grounded, before we swat him.)_

There they were at a deadlock A stale-mate. No fair, mate. Not on Blondie's part anyway. Greed was well aware of the fact that if Ed was to continue this skirmish successfully, he needed two hands. That was the way it worked: 'If you're happy and you know it' wasn't a song for amputee alchemists.

And _that_was funny. Pursing his lips into another trademark smirk – yet _another_lame pun sitting heatedly on his lips, waiting for its curtain call.

_(Need a hand?)_

But instead he waited and watched as Ed righted himself, drawing up slowly under the heaviness of his angry glare. It was _delightful,_the ease in which the Elric boy allowed his buttons to be pushed. He was so very much like his older brother. And that was yet _another_tasty little advantage Greed was hiding up his sleeve. He hadn't the past knowledge Envy himself had, save for a few old, old memories swept up in the tight corners of his Homunculus mind, hidden and gathering dust, but what he _did_know was useful. What he'd seen. In that void.

He was almost tempted just to let them go for now. He'd put the fear into them and could track them no matter where they went. They were sheep in a pen, dimwitted ruminant mammals - he could kill them easily. With Envy's powers he could slip his skin at will, hide from Ed, hide from Dante. Sure, Lust knew his scent, but the others didn't, and she'd lost enough stones by now to be weak. At risk. She'd be easy to kill... And then there was Envy. The satisfaction of killing him would have been nice, like a long, cool cigar after a heated round with something young and excitable, but...

It was rare that Greed stopped to strategize in the middle of things – his dead blood heated by adrenalin, pumping hard through his temples and too loud for his brain to hear itself think – but this time, _this_ time he had _choices._He was more powerful than the other Homunculi and he reserved the salutary element of surprise if he killed Lust. Dante would probably hold Edward responsible. After all, the kid's hold on his fuse was about as slippery as a adolescent boy's underpants in a lingerie store – he could easily lose his cool and snuff the broad. Then if Envy died.

That was the icing on the cake.

Yet in order to get a taste of that ellucid frosting, he would have to have the child. And if he had to have the child, then Envy would have to deliver it. If he had the baby, healthy, in his possession, then his leverage over Dante would be more than what could fit on your average scale. He had to remember that if he killed the kid, the bitch would be very, very _upset_and while that would be _funny_in itself, having her lick the soles of his winkle-pickers would be decidedly more satisfying. Might get her to wash her mouth out first though; lord knows where that tongue had been.

Whether Envy died in the process or not didn't bother Greed, nor, he'd assumed, would it bother Dante – she might have even been expecting it. But it was obvious that, under his 'supervision' he'd lose his brother _and_the baby in childbirth. Cutting into Envy's flesh was easy enough, but _then_what? Pass the little write off onto a wet nurse? Shove it in front of a milk bottle and hope for the best? Greed growled low under his breath, teeth grinding a little. It wasn't that he'd planned sloppily, but he hadn't thought things through with the white gloved meticulousness his ex-lover had employed near orgasmically. Cunning was his forte, yet aberration was his heel. He'd gotten all his pawns into place, but his bloodlust had awoken the moment Kimbley's body split into slippery ribbons beneath his claws and he was eager to feed it again – screw the bishop and head straight for the queen. Plan 'A' didn't accommodate for that: plan 'A' was pure greediness, built by his old persona in effort to obtain all in as little time as possible. Plan 'A' didn't know much about the _extended_ facets of Greed's new body. The archetype of what Envy had been. Not simple jealousy anymore. Not petty, juvenile grunginess but something else. Something darker. Something Envy had rarely let loose.

_(Monster...)_

And that something smiled inside Greed, opened like a third eye into the unconsciousness, tossing aside his direct route of action to dangle a vision of ultimate destruction before him. How nice would it be just to kill everyone here and now?

_(Chess took too bloody long anyway…)_

Greed licked his lips, his fingers itching as a flicker of nervousness ghosted through the stubborn determination in Ed's eyes. The dimness of the cellar, lifted now by the cannoning afternoon light that burst in from the hole in the wall, illuminated the sharp planes of his face, tinting his teeth with an oddly metallic greenish-blue glow. He moved slowly, easing forward through the displaced swill, Ed backing up accordingly. No way was the Alchemist going to let_this_ fucker get too close, not with him being unarmed and all. Unhanded. Whatever. Ed's lips curled into a snarl as Greed swung the metal limb again, letting it pendulum before him like a thruible, before tossing it blandly over his shoulder. He ran a clawed hand through his short, spiked hair, absently styling it into something of a predatory fin, the corner of his left eye tensing speculatively.

"Hey Blondie," He purred, his voice low – tiger crouching in the grass. "What would you give me?"

"What would I give you, what?" Ed spat, eyes glued to Greed's face. He didn't like that twitch, oh no. That was a mad twitch, that. He'd seen it before. Same situation. Only _that_guy had a cleaver and Ed had merely his _own_ life at stake, not his brother's, his child's and... his...

"For Envy," Greed nodded toward the hole in the wall, giving Al a brief wave. "What would you give me?"

"More like what would _you_give _me_, asshole," One set of blunt fingernails pressed firmly into the pad of his palm, the tip of Ed's tongue slipping out to clean a spot of blood from his lip. "I'm the one who has him now. Not you. And there's no way I _would_give him to you either!"

"Ah I see," the Homunculus raised a stub of a brow. "I guess you _would_think that way." He shifted, if a little uncomfortably - like a little boy needing to _goooo._His body itched with the impatience to shock, the anticipation of horror. He had another form that he _really_wanted to bring to show and tell and it would be _most_interesting to witness Ed's reaction to it. Another little white rabbit that got lost in the void. Oh this would be even better than presenting Envy with his true self. This was giving Ed the means to an end. And all he had to do...

"But Eddie, what would you give me? For this..."

There was the faint crackle of dead light again as Greed's form shrunk within it, becoming smaller, thinner. Ed hissed at the brightness but squinted all the same into the glow, shielding his eyes a little with his hand. Oh yeah? And what surprises did that bastard have up his sleeve this time? Surely there weren't that many people in Dublith for him to stalk and Edward doubted he'd checked up on his history in Central. So what was the worst form the Sin could replicate? His father? Hell no! Not only did he doubt with irrefutable certainty that Greed had ever met Hohenheim, if he _had_he was probably aware of how much Ed would _want_to get his hands around his neck. Straight loss there. Hohenheim's image was set as a mental dartboard in Ed's mind and if he even caught a _whiff_of spectacles and blond hair, one could be sure that the Homunculus would be flying across the room in pieces – ultimate shield or no.

His mother? She was already a Homunculus. And though Ed still hadn't _quite_gotten over the fact that such a monster was wearing his beloved Mom's face at the cost of his brother's body and parts of his own, it would not be a form that would surprise him. Trisha Elric was dead. Sloth was not Trisha Elric and he would not be tricked a second time.

But it was not his Mother that stood in front of him, absently brushing off the lasting curls of alchemic light like static from its body. Nor was it his despised Father – though he almost wished it _had_been – there was something so exhilarating about the prospect of laying into someone so hated with unrestrained berserker strength. Greed was a kick in the face; Dad was a kick in the family jewels.

It wasn't Hohenheim though. The blue-grey eyes that regarded him were much younger, the form still pre-pubescent, naked and glorious in the strange incandescence of the cellar. A short crop of bronze hair, shining with an almost doll-like quality, cuffed gently against the nonexistent breeze – a hank of it falling quirkily over one eyebrow. The lips, young lips, boy's lips, lips that had clutched around the stalk of a lollipop, smiling in the Doctor's office when they'd been Good Boys and had taken their shots without blubbering. Lips that had parted with the growing girth of a giant blue bubble – a feat which Ed had never managed to master, no matter the flavor of the gum (which had, at the time, been of unspeakable importance). Lips that had revealed gappy smiles and joyful giggles when, for the first time, the wobbling shape of a toy train grew from the earth itself beneath pudgy fingers and a curtain of that _blasted_blue glow. Lips that had belonged to the flesh of his brother. His only blood brother.

"_...God...Al..."_

Ed's eyes widen to the circumference of saucers, his irises bobbing like poached yolks in the centre. How had Greed known? How could he _know?_

"Would you give him up for me, Nii-san?" Al's voice peals softly, like bells. Fond memories. "For a way to get to me, would you let him go?"

Upon hearing his voice across the room, the real Alphonse, so to speak, jerked, mouthpiece falling open in shock. That was... that was _him._His real body. The one that had gotten lost in the Gate, taken from him, stolen! The one that had disintegrated within the searing glow of the gate – exploding into little itty bitty pieces like confetti or the stuffing in the boxes of books Edward used to order and Dan loved to shove his nose into. There it was. Real. Tangible. That was _him._

"Nii-san..." He whispered, melancholy and longing heavy sinkers on his voice. Greed could only know of his real form two ways. One was seeing a picture of him, which was fairly implausible, considering the only photos of himself and Edward were in Rizenbul with Pinako. He doubted Greed would have gone so far as to check there, had he been aware of the fact.

The other was seeing Al for himself _within_the Gate, which _was_as frightening as it was completely presumable. The Homunculi came out of the Gate and _he_was trapped _inside_ofthe Gate. Put two and two together and you have the current situation. But why had he done that? What was he trying to prove?

"One time offer," Al's body was saying, his head cocked a little to the side in more of a Greed-like expression than anything Ed's little brother would do, yet his eyes sparkled with that same cheeky light. "This body for that bastard. You want it, don't you? You want your brother back..." In saying this, the Al copy trailed a finger over his flat little chest, stroking over his chubby ribs and gently fingering a blushing nipple.

"Don't touch him like that," Ed breathed, unable to force his vision away and shuddering as a cold shiver touched his neck. "Don't do that... "

"Or what?" The finger swirls slightly, flicking the nub as the soft skin creased to a jutting point in the chilly air. "You'd kill _me,_Ed? You'd hurt _me?"_

"You... you're not..."

"No I'm not. But I know where he is. I know how to get to him. I can bring him back for you. No more bloodshed. No more loss. Just him..."

_Just Al..._

Ed closed his eyes for a second, trying to taste his scent in the air amongst the rot of the apples and the dull, chalky stench of the earth, trying to _touch_him through mind and memory alone. He was so real, here. So... final. Ed let out another bated breath and opened his eyes. Sure, this was only a projection of Al, speaking with Greed's tongue and moving with Greed's hands on his strings, but if he could... If he could retrieve Al's body then... then their quest would be over. They'd be done… They wouldn't have to fight anymore – wouldn't have to care. They could move on. And not simply to another town, another rumor. Another clue which would inevitably conclude in another catastrophe, but with their _lives._Young lives that without question deserved so much more happiness than they'd been able to generate over the last four years.

All it would take was one swap...

"Remember," Greed purred, as if reading his mind. "Envy's a killer. He's murdered more innocent people than you can count. And he _enjoyed_every minute of it. Some of them could have been your friends, Ed. Your family... Would you forgive him for that? He's not sorry you know... He'd never be sorry..."

_(Why should I regret something I don't think is wrong?)_

Ed cast another look over to his real brother, trapped in that prison of steel and leather, trapped in a body that was cold and artificial as his own automail limbs. He knew all too well how frightening, how surreal it was to live without sensation though, compared to Al, his suffering was drastically lessened. He could only imagine the frustration of his brother's muted touch, how he had to survive and stay _sane_ never smelling, never tasting, never satisfying, quenching or hurting. It wasn't fair.

The golden lashes lowered, dusting Ed's vision as he turned to look at Envy, not really wanting to see the one who had clumsily and in not so many words, held up a white flag and put in a proper request to be accepted as human. Yes... Envy was a killer. Murderer. Hughes's murderer... Guilty. He wasn't... He wasn't that poorly thing tucked away in Al's gauntlets, thin and sick, arms like long white bones, poking out from his brother's rigid embrace. He wasn't heavily pregnant with Ed's own child, wasn't suffering through a difficult labour that, if he didn't get help soon, would ultimately kill him.

Wasn't the one who...

In the kitchen that morning...

_(What if I wanted to stay... Edward?)_

Edward huffed, worrying his lower lip in his teeth. Trust his luck for it all to end at this. Naturally he could ignore Greed and try to get away - beat the Homunculus somehow... somehow... and run. Take Envy. Save him. But then what of Al? What is he never got this chance again? Greed knew. He knew who his brother was. Might have seen him there in the Gate. Might be able to bring him back... All he wanted was Envy. Could that be a valid sacrifice? Could he be?

If the walls of the cellar had burst into the organic curling tattoos of a giant array, if vats of incomplete Philosopher's Stone had sprouted from the floor and the room echoed with the frightened murmurs of the prisoner-come-guinea pigs of the 5th Laboratory, he wouldn't have been surprised. The current situation was almost a mirror of that night: lives at stake, something to lose, something to gain, both brothers in it up to their ears with the Homunculi. But this time...

Those criminals weren't innocent. They were in that place for a reason. They deserved to be punished. Bad men... Yes. Evil. Barely human themselves… Envy had killed Hughes: His friend, father figure, his hope. His home. He deserved to be punished for that. Ed had told him that he wasn't going to hold it against him but... But really, who says that and means it in the face of another who'd slaughtered in cold blood? Using one of humanities most cherished weaknesses, love, to trick the man into stalling.

Dying.

Envy... he deserved it... Right? The pregnancy, the humiliation... Was that really enough? It wouldn't bring Hughes back.

_(Touka koukan...)_

The words billowed gently past Ed's mind, velvety and enticing like fine wood smoke and they furled simultaneously from Greed's lips as he advanced quietly, claws extending in ghostly, petal-like, pearl-tipped shards from the beds of his nails. The boy before him was lost in a terrible dilemma of judgement, weighing each side in it's worth – emotional this time, not physical; he did not notice the talons coming down, five clean white guillotine blades aiming with evil precision for the pulsing throb of a jugular. Lust jerked and snarled a warning as best she could in-between her slow, never-ending death throes, fingers scrabbling desperately at the sword in her breast, trying to pull it free before she died again. Her stones were quickly running out – she'd lost so many already, she was in danger of _really_dying soon. Al screamed, bluntly dropping his precious cargo in order to thrust his gauntlets into the soft ground before him, scrawling frantically through the mud as he tried to construct a wobbly array – near unrecognisable in his fingers haste.

Claws sliced through the air, the corners of Greed's mouth rolled feral snarl, teeth singing their delight at the bloodletting soon to come. A reflection of Ed's penitent look haunted Sin's eyes as the boy turned to hand in his verdict, lower lip pulling out from beneath his front teeth...

_Touka koukan..._

"Envy... He... He's..."

...before Ed jolted suddenly in shock, realizing the trick. Yet despite his well-honed reflexes, his ability to slip like turbulent water through a fight, his parrying arm came up too late and too short. In his haste to block Greed's deadly curveball he'd forgotten the unexpected and messy truncation of his right hand – without his fist as cover, the Sin's strike bit through his nonexistent block and sunk deeply into soft, unyielding skin. Blood slashed through the air, pelting the molten soil with a thin spray of warm crimson and Ed's body lurched, emitting a wet gurgle-groan as it stumbled backward drunkenly, ungracefully. Al screamed again, the pitch of it seized the air, petrifying the moment like light on platinum-treated paper – a platinotype of silvery sound burnt into the atmosphere.

Ed started to fall.

And the world shifted.

And shrieked.

And trembled, doubling over onto itself as though bearing another within it – unimaginable labor pains ripping bodily through the stagnant scene. There was an underlying roar that escalated to a gale force howl, which preceded a torrent of white-hot bolts that razored between the static pair in a lightning blaze of pure power. Another screech as Prospero conducted his magical concerto and in seconds a strange and violent tempest gathered in the room: heavy clouds of alchemic activity, pregnant with electromagnetic confusion thrust about the stunted space, causing the mud and swill fly up against the walls - becoming a churning sea of filth with the potency of the elements. Somebody yelled amidst the fury, but the brunt of it was lost to the deafening roar of crucible and calamity. Although there were no electric lights on at the time – the sun's glow through the orifice in the wall was all the stage light the fighter's had - the brightness spluttered, quivering and spinning phantoms of double images against the thick plumes of smoke. For a moment it looked as though the room was filled with black ghosts, ducking between the pillars of cumulus gas, bending and skewing in the tricks of the eerie, flashing pulses of blue and white phosphoric threads. The roar dropped as a hum rounds through it, a chorus building for the last note that swelled, louder and louder until the pressure is enough to make the earth boil and pop and then…

And then…

It was gone. Like a flicker in the corner of one's eye, it was gone. A dream that stays on the very edge of memory, hanging on with hooked claws even after one has woken in a mess of rumpled, sweat sodden sheets. And one remembers falling, running from certain destruction then falling… falling…The disruption reached crescendo, then spluttering out suddenly, sucking backward onto itself. A _whuuup_ like an inward gasp calls the maelstrom back in for tea and as quickly as a sun shower in the height of January, the panic was gone.

Al's breath rattled around his helmet, unnecessary, but present anyway, and he clutched at the sludgy earth - gumming it hopelessly between his fingers. The dust settled, particles crackling angrily at with the last of their otherworldly energy and through the haze limps a tall figure, leaning slightly to the side as it heaves another, smaller figure across the room. A frightened, rabbity gasp, slips past the mouthguard of the enchanted armour as Lust sinks to her knees, resting the bloodied, motionless form of Edward next to the shivering body of Envy, running a slender finger down his wet, rounded cheek.

"L-lust-san?" Al squeaks, metal joints clattering in accompaniment from his trembling, his huge, barbed shoulder pieces quivering with pre-emptive sobs. "He's... n-Nii-san's not... is he? He's not..."

Lust shook her head slowly, trying to blink the acidic fumes from her eyes. She went to speak, then jumped as Al thew himself forward with a violent sob, clutching at the at the filthy material of Ed's once-white shirt, a low wail of grief stretching in his throat.

She jumped again, however, when Edward shot upright – eyes wide with surprise – then smashed hard against the helmet's chattering faceguard.

_Clanggg.._.

"Who? Wha-OW! Fuck! God_damn__…__mmmmnng!"_

"Nii-san!" Al cried delightedly, ignoring the slew of bad language directed at him. He pulled away, giving his brother a little room and sat back on his haunches. "You're alive!"

"Of course I am!" Edward grumbles, rubbing his crown, juvenile temper flaring once again. "Like that bastard was going to get one over on me!" Patting at the blood on his cheek, he fell silent for a moment, trying not to think about how very easily Greed might have done exactly so, emerging victorious from the sudden attack. He'd been careless, distracted. He'd bragged that Greed wouldn't be able to stall him and sure enough fell into the Sin's trap. Of course he'd known that the bastard wasn't going to fight clean, but… Greed just seemed like the type to bluff – to drag out his bad hand for as long as it took until his opponent gave up in frustration and folded a royal flush to a two-pair. But Greed did have the flush, the full house – fuck, he owned the gambling house itself! Those claws had come close. Too close. His heart was still pounding, larynx still clinging to the side of his throat in fear. Gingerly fingering the deep gash that had, miraculously, caught the side of his jaw instead of plunging into the soft flesh below, he took an uneven, shuddering breath and forced himself to shine a confident grin up at his brother.

"H-hey," He stammered, furious that his voice would betray him so with that... that... _wibble_. "Nice work there... On the... um... the... Whatever you did."

He cocks his remaining thumb at the complete dump behind him, the volcanic way the mud had plastered about the walls like cooling magma, painting them an interesting shade of 'sewer.' Many of the ceiling beams had been shattered from the sheer pressure of the cyclonic storm and hung limp from the vertical supports, swinging on their iron brackets and showering the floor in a mist of dry splinters.

But Al was shaking his head slowly, mouthpiece slightly ajar in an expression of astonished bewilderment.

"Nii-san… that… that wasn't me."

Two golden arcs raise in surprise, then a look of wariness crossed Ed's face and he knawed on his lip again, staring back into the dilapidated storeroom. Something wasn't right…

"It wasn't you." He stated to the open space.

"No Nii-san." Al squeaked. "I was going to do something – I'm not sure what it was but… m-maybe a block… But then this happened instead."

Both brothers pause a moment, surveying the mess, the utter destruction the attack had caused and the cellar door at the far end of the room which escaped back into the house. It was open. Of course, Ed was fairly sure he'd left it open when he made his entrance, but he couldn't shake the feeling that, after the transpiring events, he hadn't been the _last_to go through it.

"That wasn't you either, was it?" Al continued, carefully gathering Envy back into his arms – a trite apologetic since he _did_drop him. "D-do you think... Sensei?"

Ed's braid jiggled as he shook his head. Izumi was very powerful, but this hadn't been her doing. She wouldn't have left them. Not like this... Not with Envy...

Envy.

_Oh yeah._

Ed hunched down, crouching beside Al and tentatively reached out to touch the quaking form in his arms. Envy did not look good when he'd first seen him back in the cellar and the cheerful afternoon light did even less justice to his sallow, waxy, sweat-sheened form. He was still breathing in that worrying, choking way that seemed to stop too often and stumbled as his chest shuddered with the effort it took simply to move air in and out of his lungs. His lips quivered, cracked and coated in smears of blood and dried saliva – whiteness gathering in the corner of his mouth. His tear-glazed, red eyes opened, puffy, pouchy and dark on the lower lid and they catch Ed's gaze; taking several seconds to focus, then several more to comprehend exactly whom it was he was looking at. When he finally realized, Envy let out a long, relived gasp, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly in palliative amusement.

_"You... forget... somethin'?"_

The fact that Envy still has the strength to attempt a joke shifted the heavy lump in Ed's throat a little, honeying his nerves as though he'd knocked back a healthy shot of strong liquor. But he shook his head a little, bangs sweeping in a low arc as he cupped Envy's feverish forehead – wiping more dirt on than sweat off.

"I think I left my watch in the living room." He said quietly, startling when Lust tossed something clunky and heavy - his severed hand - into his lap, having traipsed back into the room to find it hanging from one of the taps of the cider casks by the cables. A quick gesture in the mud, a flash of light and it's re-attached, good as new – save for the fact he hadn't been able to connect the bionics and therefore could not move the fingers. Another flash and Al had his leg back on and was easing slowly to his feet, shifting Envy slightly in his grip.

"It's about two miles to the clinic." Ed continued, elbowing out of his shirt to sling it off and tuck it around Envy's naked torso. It was pretty grimy and a bit wet, but a covering nonetheless. He rubbed his bare shoulder lightly before turning back to the forest. "We'll go fast, though. Just hold on."

Envy groaned weakly.

_"Ed?"_

"Mm?"

_"I stole…your watch… nine months ago… moron…"_

Ed grunted in response and thrust his chin out, breaking into a brisk pace toward the woods while Al fell into step beside him. Lust took a final glance about the room, eyes flicking conscientiously over the vomited mud and slime, the exploded barrels and shattered beams as she scanned for any breath of life – or unlife – that might remain, slinking among the shadows. But no… only the afternoon birdsong filled her keen ears and the smell of woody mist and white heat remained. Greed had fled. There was no sign of him left in the room and the strong odor of chemicals and char masked the direction of his exit. She took a step to pursue, to start scaling the perimeter, then turned quickly on her heel and raced after the Elric brothers. Her newest sibling might have slipped out of her claws for now, but her eldest was in serious danger. Something told her that she and the Alchemist hadn't been the only factors against the rampant Sin. Edward hadn't created the disturbance – nor had Alphonse and certainly not Envy. There was little she knew about Greed, but judging by his overall archetype, he wouldn't have let a prey as precious as Envy fall into the enemies' hands unless something had startled him enough to value his multiple lives over his retribution. No dog would let its prized bone been stolen from under its nose so easily. No… Greed had abandoned his human pincushion because something evidently much, much stronger than he had threatened his matchstick advantage

Something had frightened him.

Someone had scared him away.

The Birth.

When he'd dreamed of it in a rather fitful, odd slumber some months ago, the event had been a happily humorous one for the mismatched couple – something vaguely reminiscent of a comic tale he'd read in one of his wife's reader's digests. Envy was in labor – for some reason giving birth as a woman would (even Warner couldn't explain that one, perhaps it was his persistent, hard boiled logic trying to force itself into place) and was lying, huffing and puffing on a hospital bed, face red with exertion and eyes set on his 'decimate' function. Izumi was by his side, admittedly a safe distance from his teeth and was avidly trying to coax him into using some Lamaze breathing exercises, talking loudly over his _own_suggestions for her to shove her llama up some part of her she'd rather not have it.

Ed was standing at the head of the bed, cursed to hell and back while Envy gripped his hand – his real hand, though he had the option of taking his steel one – drawing blood with the dig of his nails. The ailing mother had invented quite a few startlingly original pet names for his darling partner and proceeded to knight him with several more as a contraction belted him in the groin. He curled up, screaming, his hair a fuzzy mess that stuck to the sides of his damp face – flushed angrily with the workout childbirth was putting him through. Ed yelled along in time with him, trying to jerk his hand out of Envy's death-grip, while the ex-Sin shrieked his declaration of all-out war on Edward's genitals, his own genitals, and genitalia in general for just being so damn virile. Oh yes, the world was in trouble for being such a complete and utter bastard to do this to him.

There'd been a lot of energy in the dream. Plenty of movement, emotion, liveliness. Envy was in pain, but he was alright – simply pissed off about having to push something the size of a watermelon out a hole the size of a lemon when the watermelon couldn't be chopped into manageable pieces first. Ed was also in pain, having had his hand bruised beneath the vice-like fingers of his furious partner and the pair were fighting and squabbling as usual – altercations flying off the walls as they bickered like any normal couple through the stress of their first child's birth. After there had been smiles, apologies, balloons and cake and a rather large purple walrus standing in the corner. A happy scene. Charming in it's own right - though he'd never quite figured out the presence of the grape coloured marine mammal - and all in all and ideal allegory of the birth scenario Warner had wished for the two. Of course there was pain, there was frustration and a healthy amount of swearing, but that was what made it ever the more human. The dream was a prototypical likelihood, a collaboration of some of the most important emotions at their best, all banding together to add vitality to this magnificent presentation of life's most rudimentary wonders. Creation.

However, reality could not deliver such a palliative episode and instead swung toward the morose. Warner had attended enough births, delivered enough children to know that Envy wasn't going to have a clean, simple travail when bearing his first – and most likely only – child. Even through cesarean; he was too small, too thin. His strength was unreliable and his tolerance to pain nearly nil. The trauma on his body that would most likely occur had been playing heavily on the doctor's mind the past few weeks and he had worried over countless medical volumes, preparing himself for any situation that might arise.

But trauma wasn't even the word for it now.

The body that Edward and Alphonse laid out on the examination table was as white as the sheets themselves and nearly as cold, face sunken and pinched with pain, two plum dots of colour on his cheekbones and the rasp of air passing over his quaking, rough lips being the only evidence of life left in his entire form. His eyes were now hooded by his thick lashes, pregnant with round beads of salty tears. He was alive, certainly, but that life was burning up rapidly – one would not wish to hazard a guess how few beats were left in his tired heart. Warner took his wrist, pressing his fore and middle fingers in beside the tendon where a ghost of a pulse throbbed weakly in response.

Too few.

The doctor's moustache flattened a little against his bottom lip and he felt over the filthy mound of flesh, frown deepening at the straining clench of the womb beneath the mud-splattered skin. Envy's contractions had ceased, but his uterine muscles, instead of relaxing, had frozen in their shortened state, crushing against their delicate passenger and causing plenty of intense discomfort in the process. It wasn't unusual for labor to end prematurely, usually indicating unwillingness of the mother's to proceed with the birth and in which case a simple induction procedure was initiated. Yet instead of relaxing and molding back to position as the contractions diminished; Envy's stomach was rock hard and shuddering with tension as the tissue had seized around the fluid heavy membrane, unable release their burden through a widened cervix. If this pressure had been sustained over a long period of time, the damage could be extensive on both Envy and the baby.

"How long did you say he'd been in labor for?" Warner asked, his voice calm and pragmatic as usual. Panic was a word he tried not to associate himself with; though a generous amount of unease hung over his features and his fingers flew toward various medical instruments on immediate instinct.

"I didn't," Ed replied, nodding as Lust and Al excused themselves to stand guard in the hall. "And I don't know either. He was like this when we found him." He scratched at a drying patch of dirt on his wrist and furrowed his brow as he scanned over Envy again – trying to see with Warner's eyes. "Is it… it's… it's bad isn't it…"

Not a textbook diagnosis by any means. Edward didn't need to be a qualified physician to know that Envy was in terrible trouble, but he had to ask. You always have to ask, just in case they're _not_going to die…

"Mmm…" Warner gave Ed a hard look as he gently brushed Envy's sweaty hair from his face. No need to frighten the poor patient – he'd suffered enough already and was probably ten times more anxious than they were. But the pale boy said nothing, only flicked his eyes over to the side and watched with dull, wavering recognition as the doctor finished taping the transfusion needle to the back of his palm and tapped lightly at the plastic tubing which fed, like a reverse vampire, blood slowly back into his system. "It's alright, Envy. You're going to be just fine. This won't take long."

At least, Warner hoped it wouldn't, but Envy's low blood pressure and rapid pulse teamed with a deathly pallor and cold, clammy skin didn't really call more much less than acute distress. He was losing blood from the inside, probably from uterine hemorrhage as Warner had feared, and even with a transfusion, the shock over a prolonged period would have weakened him badly. Despite Warner's knowledge and practical skill, he might not last much longer. Cursing his lack of staff in this small clinic, Warner bathed the bottom of Envy's stomach with an anesthetic cleanser and checks over his equipment, sparkling pristine and sanitary under the white blast of the surgery lights - blades are so sharp they appeared to cause the surrounding air whistle and the light cut over them.

Turning to Ed, he tested a shot full of anesthetic in the air, forcing the fatal oxygen bubbles from the medicine.

"I'm going to make this as quick as possible, Edward, and I need your help. Though a general anesthesia would be the most practical, I cannot use it without a professional to monitor his breathing – it's too dangerous. A regional infiltration will have to do. Now help me roll him onto his side."

Ed nodded and let Warner position his hands on Envy's shoulder and hip, instructing him to pull forwards. He was rather glad that, since the shot was being administered behind him, the ex-Sin couldn't see what was happening, for the beast of a surgical needle that Warner produced was enough to make his _own_spine collapse into little jigsaw pieces. Admittedly, Envy was in enough pain he probably wouldn't have even felt the minute spike of metal penetrate his flesh,

_(Ew... In the back... In his back between the boooones!)_

but the sight of it was jarring all the same. Ed had never minded needles before his automail surgery, but because so many had been used in that lengthy operation, and so many after while he was healing, he'd developed quite the phobia. He'd hated Pinako tightening the clamps about his remaining tendons enough, but when she had to test the heath of his affected muscles and adjoining tissue at the bond of the steel to flesh, the resulting agony had been remained an over-stayer in his memory banks.

Yet Envy only emitted a small, crumbly whimper as the epidural was administered and his shoulders tightening against the discomfort as Warner stepped away, carefully easing him over onto his back again.

"That'll take the pain out of it," he explained, adjusting his gloves. Ed shivered as he noticed a viscous smear of nervous sweat on the man's brow – a little disconcerting, considering he was supposed to be practiced in this kind of thing. Cutting... people. Skin... flesh... like paper or cloth. Removing the bad and sewing them back together. Good as new. Right?

_(He's nervous. He's nervous and so am I. That moisture running down my cheek and down my neck isn't just blood. I know there's a chance they both might not make it but... I can't.. I can't think about that now... I can't...)_

"I'm going to make the cut," Warner stated, as if to reassure himself as well as his patient and audience. He could feel the apprehension in the air - not as twitching fretfulness in his hands, the scalpel felt heavy and definite in his fingers, not slimy or greased with sweat – but as a simple, heavy weight in his chest. He would not 'screw up' as some of his younger interns had often guiltily admitted in moments of clumsiness or nerves, no. But if something were to go wrong, he hadn't a second as backup. He could call one of the casual nurses on the roster, only then he'd be risking both Ed and Envy's safety.

And there was no time. Not with Envy's pulse dropping, turning from rapid and thready to sluggish and dull. The pulse monitor burped lazily and the rasp in Envy's breath decreased in volume as he seemed to take less and less air into his lungs.

There was no time.

Warner let out a long, stable exhale and set his shoulders, hands bouncing lightly on Envy's belly before resting, warm and reassuring on the curve.

"It'll be alright... Don't worry."

The blade descended.

_"I won't die."_

_"Yes you will."_

_"No… Not until part of me has lived."_

_"You mean that abomination, don't you?" The ideal said. It was sitting in the room now, perched tentatively on a small surgical bench on the cupboard lined wall to Envy's left. A hard violet glare was regarding him – almost as bright as the fluorescent bulb – and it narrowed into thin slits as Envy simply smiled in response._

_"And what will that mean then? You die so the nasty little brat can live? So that stunted blond trail of cat sick can call itself a Daddy? He'll have won if you do that, you know."_

_"Who__will?"__Envy__asked,__his__eyes__rolling,__inner__voice__cracking__with__the__strain__of__subconscious__to__conscious__thought.__He__couldn't__concentrate__on__the__effigy__anymore__as__reality__kept__nosing__under__his__blanket__of__numbly__fuzziness,__revealing__patches__of__itself__in__cold__lit__glimpses.__Ed__was__there,__he__could__tell__by__the__halo__of__his__blond__hair,__the__messy__edges__a__thicket__of__white__fire__under__the__harsh__glow__and__the__large__hulk__of__starched__medical__coat__had__to__be__Warner,__indefinitely.__One__or__the__other__was__speaking__as__they__stood__over__him,__pressing__in__a__little__on__his__bruised__hip__with__careful__fingers__and__wiping__cold__stuff__on__his__aching__stomach.__It__didn't__feel__very__good__ – __sort__of__rubbing__a__damp__sponge__over__his__skin__but__perhaps__it__was__supposed__to__take__the__pain__away.__Maybe.__It__didn't__appear__to__be__working__though.__Suddenly__the__world__shifted__and__he__found__himself__on__his__side__with__a__rather__nice__view__of__the__young__alchemist's__crotch__that__he__might__have__appreciated__minus__the__circumstances,__but__after__a__brief__spike__of__pain__and__another__careful__roll__backward,__he__found__himself__feeling__a__little__better.__Or__at__least,__feeling__a__little_less

_"Hohenheim of Light of course!" The Ideal spat, oblivious to Envy's faltering attention as he vaulted off the bench to stand in spiteful controposture before him – rather like a pissed-off version of Verrochio's David. His fingers dug in on his hips, left foot tapping insolently and he pursed his lips as though the words rattling from them with all the grace of machine-gun fire tasted incredibly bad. "He's won! We can't let him do that! We have to kill him! Not the other way around!"_

_"Kill__him?__Do__I__really__look__like__I'm__in__a__position__to__kill_anyone?"_Envy__laughed.__At__least__he__thought__he__did,__no__one__else__seemed__to__notice__it.__But__then__again,__no__one__else__could__see__whom__he__was__having__the__conversation__with__either.__Which__was__probably__a__good__thing.__Though__Freud,__had__he__existed__upon__the__Amestris__plane,__would__have__applauded__him,__published__his__thesis__and__taken__a__vacation__somewhere__very__warm__with__a__beach,__Envy__didn't__like__the__fact__that__he__was__arguing__with__himself__so__heatedly.__Nor__was__he__too__pleased__that__he__had__the__audacity__to__put__up__such__a__tempestuous__debate.__Smart-mouthed__little__fucker._

_"That was your own stupid fault!" The Ideal hissed, narrowing his eyes again. Spittle flecked in a light spray from those perfect lips and he was beginning to shake with his birthright fury. "Dumbass! If you hadn't played that daft prank in the first place, we all wouldn't be here!"_

_"If__I__hadn't_died _in__the__first__place,__we__wouldn't__be__here."_

_"Yes! And that's his fault. All his! And we'll make him suffer! We'll make him pay for... for..."_

_Envy shook his head._

_"Idiot. It was Dante who killed us. Mother."_

_Sometimes, on the rare occasion when Envy found himself withdrawing a little from his demolition obsession, he took something of a 'Sunday-stroll-at-the-zoo' – a wander through a busy marketplace, incognito. This was one of the rare few times he actually tolerated being around humans and though he still seemed to prowl amongst them like a cat around a mouse cage – a grimace twisting his face as though taking a walk down a bustling street was on par with wading through a sewage tank, barefoot. But he couldn't complain too much, it helped pass the time and created significant additions to his vast character base of miscellaneous masks, so he considered it justified. A favorite form was that of a little boy – not himself, of course, or his old self - but someone who could blend in easily amongst the rest and secretly indulge in a game or two before Lust came to give her report._

_Four hundred years and a subtraction of a soul and he still couldn't get the hopscotch bug out of his knees._

_One of the memories that truly stuck from his traversing studies, was a young Xenotian entrepreneur who, to make a quick buck, convinced his friends and a small audience of tourists that he was something called a 'Magician'. Envy'd had no idea what that kind of title was supposed to imply, but the bunch of unsuccessful tricks involving tall hats, sticks and a rather dirty brown rabbit (which he proceeded to instruct his onlookers to 'imagine it's white') was amusing to say the least. The show itself was clumsy and terrible – which in turn made it a complete success in a typical slapstick manner, but the act Envy remembered strongly was one where the boy had set a small dinner placing for two on a barrel and attempted to remove the tablecloth whilst the utensils and placemats was still in place. The result was a symphonic crash that caused most of the marketplace and two officials to come running._

_Nonetheless, there had been call for an encore._

_Back in context, his Ideal image, upon hearing the truth of his death, seemed to react in a similar manner. A pause, a gasp, a piscine round of gaping and then the rug was just pulled out from under his feet and his whole psyche came crashing down around him. Four hundred years of standing layer upon layer of lies and still the little ball of truth at the bottom of it all itched and poked him, willing itself to be revealed. Certainly Envy could have chosen not to believe Greed's little discovery – that Dante was indeed just giving him his daily tonic, that she was a caring, loving mother who took pains to nurse her sick son while her lover ignored them both, escaping on expeditions and trips to so-called 'new discoveries'. She was his mother, his mother! Sacred, transcendent, blue-mantled – mother! She should have cared about him more than anything else in the world. But... But..._

_But she was also Dante._

_And Dante, he'd finally realized, after centuries of suppressed suspicions , had only ever cared about herself. Becoming human had been a fatal mistake indefinitely, only he'd finally managed to sum up the courage to question rather than ignore. So while his perfect image floundered in disbelief, desperate grasping at straws and finding the only ones he came up with were bendy, he winced, feeling something cold push down and press through his skin. There was a deliberate lack of sensation, which Envy felt was probably the product of something very strong and very synthetic – the list of chemical ingredients bearing names longer than the alphabet itself – but he was thankful for it. He was fairly sure that without it, the cold, slicing sensation, then the tugging and stretching that superseded he would be in rather a lot of pain. He closed his eyes, trying to blot everything out – all sensation. But the other wasn't finished._

_"Dante?" He cried, eventually finding his voice that had burrowed under various levels of shock. "No! No! Mother didn't! Mother wouldn't!"_

_"Oh shut up," Envy replied, irritably. "You knew it all along."_

_"No! No! Stop saying that! She'd never... Mother would never! It was all his fault! His!" The Ideal raced over to him, clawing desperately at the neat sheets of the surgical table, its face a grotesque mask of pleading and horror. "H-he did it! He left us!"_

_"You knew it, but you were too afraid to admit that she was using you because she was all you had left." Envy said, looking away. Everything that wasn't in his direct line of sight was turning dim, wavering and soft like the horizon through a veil of smoke. "You scorned Lust for wanting to become human for harboring those old memories, but you were the same. Sure, you called her 'master' over 'mother' but she was the same to you. You couldn't let her go the same as you couldn't stop hating him."_

_"Nononononono..." The effigy whined, now moving up the bed to clutch at his hair, passing through Warner's body to get to him. His face had twisted into a childish grimace, akin to the rubber-mouth caricature of a three year old about to let loose into a tantrum. His voice had eradicated its clipped, angry tone and was now a sniveling whinge that sort of slimed itself out of his mouth, riding on the cusp of a low moan. "Nononono. Was Him. Not Mama... not Maaaama..."_

_"And__just__to__think,"__Envy__continued,__his__eyelids__drooping__wearily.__"I__considered__myself__… __I__thought__… __thought__I__was__something__when__I__was__you.__Important.__Paramount.__I__should__be__shot__for__even__imagining__a__shit-faced__little__toddler__like__you__could__have__ever__been__close__to__a__God.__I__was__an__idiot._ You_are__an__idiot.__Perhaps__it__is__better__to__die.__Easier."_

_"You can't die..." the other croaked. "If you die... I die... So you can't..."_

_"You're already dead, stupid little bastard." Envy's fingers were moving, his knuckles being squeezed tightly by somebody else. He heard his name being called but he was just... just too tired to answer. There were more noises in the room and the lights were pulsing again. A weight had been removed from him, he could feel it. It felt… wonderful without it… something of a restraint being removed in amnesty. It was followed up consecutively by a sort of soupy, sludgy feeling between his hips that pointed out such verbs as 'puree' and 'mutilate'. He wasn't too sure exactly what the feel was caused by – though something in the distant fog of his mind screamed and waved its arms, it was, but really he was far to tired to care. So... so tired. Sleepy. Exhausted. He should really answer to those calls. Maybe later. After a rest. Little rest..._

_"It'll go away," the other persisted. "It'll stop. T-this sickness inside you…This demon that's tricked you… If you just… forget it… it'll stop!"_

_"Oh you poor, blind fool," Envy whispered, a fortiori. "I don't want it to stop…"_

"So...so that's it then?" Ed said, unsure. He leant over Envy's prone body carefully, trying to get a better view of the football-sized object Warner was cradling in his arms, while at the same time trying not to look down at the bloody mess that had corrupted Envy's lower stomach. Understandably, Ed had seen plenty of vicious killings and blood-splatterings in his young life, but site-seeing the ex-Sin's internal organs had not been included on his agenda and he rather preferred it that way. He'd only narrowly missed having his _own_strung about the cellar of Dante's mansion like festive paper lanterns and he didn't particularly want to be reminded of the fact.

However, the little fleshy mass in Warner's arms wasn't quite the cutesy, wrapped up in a blanket with a teddy, pretty smelling cuddled-up-to-Mummy thing that he'd been anticipating. When Elysia had been born, he'd turned away, blushing like mad the moment the doctor told her to push and dived down to the area where only physicians and husbands and _not_young alchemists should be looking. Obviously he wasn't entirely sure of what to expect from the birth, save that there would, inevitably, be a baby in the room at the end of it.

But, this wasn't a baby... was it?

It certainly wasn't the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. It wasn't entirely offensive, even with all the blood and the warm slimy gunk that was still attached to it like leeches, but it wasn't _pretty_. Elysia had been quite pretty in a rumpled tissue kind of way, but this thing... This was... unexpected to say the least. The creature he'd brought out of the gate four years ago, that was fairly disgusting. What had crawled out of Envy himself, now that was nearly _unbelievably_disgusting – all bloody veins and pus and_eugggh_. But this… _this_was something he wasn't expecting to be repulsive.

And that made it much, much worse.

Ed watched, both fascinated and horrified as Warner had drawn it from the bleeding hole of pinned-back flesh at Envy's stomach, and cradled it gently in a towel, pushing some kind of plastic bulb thing into its nose. He almost couldn't believe that it had a distinguishable _head_.

"So that's it?" He tried again, hoping that he was up for correction and this was some kind of trial version – a before baby, baby. "That's the baby?"

"Mm," Christopher said shortly, now rubbing the tiny back of the slick, bloody item. "Ed, check Envy's pulse will you?"

"Uh, sure," the alchemist glanced over at the heart monitor, hunching his upper lip despondently. "Forty six. Um... it is supposed to be like that?"

"Like what?"

"Purple like that..." He pointed weakly toward the Doctor's arms.

"Edward," Warner said patiently, alternating from rubbing to gentle patting. "The baby is purple because it hasn't taken a breath yet."

And neither has its mother by the looks of things. Envy was slowly starting to turn a disturbing grey colour, his pulse still plummeting dangerously while his respiration turned lax and far too soft. This did not bode well, not at all, but Warner knew he had to sacrifice a few moments to tend to the child. Most started screaming upon their entry to the world, or immediately after suctioning, however there had been a tremendous amount of stress involved in the birth of this particular little one and it was being particularly stubborn. If the situation hadn't been so grim, he'd have noted the similarities in disposition between the two-minute-old and its parents, yet at the current moment his mind had shut out all optional extras – including dry wit. He let out a long, controlled exhale and shifted from one foot to the other. "Are you sure you read the pulse right?"

"Yes...the big green numbers? Forty six… no… Forty two…" Is that bad?"

Warner sucked in a breath.

"Ed, take a heap of towels from the side cabinet there and press them down hard on his wound."

"What, on the hole in his tummy?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?" Ed said stupidly, navigating backwards to the cool door of the stainless steel bench. "Aren't you supposed to stitch him up?"

"I would if I had a nurse who could encourage this child to start breathing." The doctor explained forcibly. He hadn't really wanted to get Edward involved like this but until the child had taken air into its lungs, he needed all the help he could get. Envy's condition was rapidly deteriorating from the already critical state the boys brought him in; he had to make a choice between two, unfortunately scaling it down to the options of: who should be saved over who could be saved.

_(There's a phone on the wall, Christopher. Amanda is five minutes away, you know this. Call her. Call her and save them. She wouldn't say anything. Would she?)_

_(No time. No Goddamn time. Baby's got less than five minutes without air. Envy's got… God knows how long he's got…)_

As Ed hurriedly stacked four thick towels onto Envy's pelvis and gingerly leaned on them he caught the unhealthy pallor of Envy's face and felt his heart run over a couple of speedbumps, veering wildly to the left. What if he'd placed them too far up? Was he hurting Envy doing this? Surely just leaning into the open wound like this would be causing more damage? He looked back as the doctor used the sucky-bulb thing again on the baby, uncertainty rounding his lips into a question when,

_EEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_

The pulse monitor whined, a long, loud insectile drone of tuneless soprano that made both the conscious inhabitants of the room jump in shock. Envy's eyes were still cracked open, staring with fat, dilated pupils at the ceiling, but his lips no longer quivered as the air passed over them. His chest was still. Ed's head jerked up at Warner who immediately uttered the only word he could think of,

"Shit!"

before he quickly shifted the lifeless form in his grip to one hooked arm and reached over to jab his fingers in Envy's neck, unwilling to trust what the machine proclaimed. Yet the eerie, electronic death toll continued as he drew back, his grey swiftly calculating possibilities, brain churning through lists of emergency procedure.

_Envy is dead._

_Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_

No, no it wasn't true. There was still time! There was time to save him.

"Edward… I need your help with cardiopulmonary resuscitation."

"I knew six out of eight words in that sentence."

"Cardiopul- CPR…" Warner huffed, wracking his brain for the common abbreviation. "Chest compressions, rescue breathing. Izumi must have taught you that!"

"See pee wha?" Ed paled suddenly, remembering with cringing clarity how his teacher had made him 'kiss' his brother back when even kissing _girls_was a mortal sin, let alone siblings. The 'thumping of the breastbone' bit he'd only ever learnt in theory, and even then it seemed particularly unnerving. "I can't do that! What if I slip? What if I miss or get the wrong place? Wha-what if..."

"What if you save his life? Edward. I can't... not both of them. Not at once. There isn't time!"

_No time. Envy is dead._

_EEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_

The alchemist shuddered and, biting his lip, proceeded to place his hands as he remembered. Warner watched carefully, the entire conduct of the operation an open page on the tip of his tongue, his hand now squeezing the bag of a ventilator he'd placed over the baby's mouth. Ed took a shaky breath, glanced quickly at Envy's very blue lips and, with firm resolution, rolled up to his tip-toes for greater downward pressure, readied his fingers and push-

"If you let the boy do that, Christopher, we'll have bits of Envy flying all over the room!" Pinako growled, barrelling through the open doorway, Izumi and Winry stumbling after. "I make automail for strength, not for surgeons."

Naturally the old woman knew her mechanical pieces were receptive enough to pick up a butterfly without removing the dust from its wings, but she was less worried about the automail and more about the ability of the operator. As it was, Ed offered a considerably blank look to the invading women before he was thrust aside by Izumi who, in a blur of black dreadlocks and day-old lipstick dove upon Envy's prone body like a painted vulture: bracelets jangling, as she attempted to trampoline the life back into him. Warner turned back to the child in his arms without another word and continued compressing the ventilator bag in his hands.

How very succinct of the accidental saviours...

The room fell into a sudden, grim silence, broken only by the huffing pace of Izumi's compressions and the hollow plastic crumple of Warner's medical bag as the two obstinately continued their separate races to save both mother and child. Winry stood by the door, hands clutching at her shirt as the shopping bags crackled despondently by her sandals. Her eyes were wide, shocked. Ed's heart sat on the breath in his mouth, his left hand tightening to a fist as he concentrated upon the level line of the pulse monitor, willing the stubborn horizon to grow breasts.

And then, another sound broke the monotonous, bleak rhythm of the room. A sound that Ed was sure he'd once heard described as 'most annoying in the world', though to hear it as he heard it now, it couldn't have been more welcome than the hush of his mother's breath against his cheek – her quiet coercion to wake him in the morning. Rouse him from this dream, this strange, long nightmare where she'd died… Where he wore limbs of steel… Where he lost nearly everything and gained… And gained…

A child.

_His_child. Who had finally broken its birth trance and was howling it's displeasure at the world for being so _damned_cold. And though the scream of a toddler often drew Edward's hands over his ears, this particular bawl, this zealous peal was consonant to the herald of the dawn from its feathered choir, the sound of the wind catching the soul of an empty field, the sound of the concrete, firm and resolute under the boots of a free man.

It was the sound of his creation accepting life.

This time, he hadn't failed.

Warner smiled broadly, quickly giving the screaming baby a final survey before tucking the towel around it a little more tightly and holding it out to the startled blond.

"Congratulations, Edward," He said, initiating the usual speech – though this time it really, _really_felt like a well-earned recognition. "You have a healthy daughter."

_Daughter?_

The world shifted, and then went _sput._

Ed. Stared.

"Daught-?" He said in a small voice, absently accepting the little bundle offered to him. He swallowed hard, weighing the fragile package in his good arm, his eyes rolling down like big yellow marbles to the tiny face that was creased and red and mostly a large, gaping toothless mouth that _howled_.

"Yes. Pinako, will you take them into the next ward? Izumi can help me here." As Warner said this, Envy' pulse fired a little spluttering gunshot of life and sent a long crest of waves breaking over the oppressive flat-line on the monitor. Izumi made way for the doctor to intervene, folding her hands in front of her as Warner checked various counters and began assimilating other pieces of plastic equipment. The last thing Ed saw of the ex-Sin was the towels being removed, soaked and weighted with blood before the old woman ushered himself and Winry out of the room and down the hall, pushing Ed down onto a couch in the empty nurse's lounge so that she could observe the baby. Her ancient face cracked into a smile, practically flaking the snowdrifts of thick makeup in a powdery shower and one gnarled hand, not much bigger than the baby's head itself, reached out to stroke a damp, warm cheek.

"Ah, now that's a pretty girl if I ever saw one," Pinako grinned, chuckling in her odd, masculine way. Ed stared dumbly back, his face having been set in a frozen mask of pother since the baby had been pulled from the womb, wondering how the woman could _possibly_find this pink, sweaty thing, still hot from its passage through Envy, attractive in any way. And for God's sake, why was it _still_ making that noise?

"Guh?" He said.

Winry emitted a high pitched transmission that would have commanded the attention of most of the dogs and dolphins in the area and peered over her Grandmother's head, her expression – usually the one she reserved for the hardware store – something akin to blancmange.

"Ohhh, she's adorable! So tiny!"

"S-she?" Ed stuttered, finally picking his voice up from somewhere by his toes. "N-no… That's wrong. This is a boy…"

Pinako shot a Winry a knowing look and they both laughed.

"I'm pretty sure your mother told you the difference between girls and boys, Edward. If not you must have at _least_figured it out by now!"

"No! Not that! I mean… He should a boy. I'm meant to have a son!" Ed exclaimed desperately, sucking in his lower lip as he stared down at the whimpering, crinkled face in weak protest. This wasn't right. It wasn't! His first child was meant to be a boy, that's just how his mind had accepted it. A boy! An… heir, he supposed. Something like that. Not a girl. He couldn't relate to a girl.

"Oh don't be silly!" Pinako scolded, tugging up the towel a little. "There's no such thing as 'meant to' when it comes to genetics! I'm not sure about Envy, but perhaps your insistent Elric pride was overruled for once and let the family name belong to girl!"

"B-but I'd been… I thought it was going to be boy."

"Are you saying there's something wrong with girls?" Winry growled, thundering down on Ed in a blonde cloud of distaste. "Are you saying we're not good enough?"

"Well no… b-but I…" How could he really explain it? That… in a strange, wonky paternal way he'd been wishing for another little him? He didn't like Envy. Didn't like that fact that the ex-Sin had fallen pregnant with his child through the most ridiculous and arbitrary of circumstances. That he'd been tricked, duped and coerced into cared for his friend's murderer rather than extinguishing him. But a son would have kind of… forgiven everything. Made it just that little bit more digestible. But Evy had produced a_girl_. And a girl… A girl was… Was…

Winry really didn't approve of the look on Ed's face, especially now that he was biting his lip and staring at his daughter, caught between protest and resignation. The baby bleated unhappily, waving her pudgy arms in the cooler lounge air, seeking security and comfort - Ed's loose, unenthused grip was not enough. The mechanic's fist clenched and unclenched spasmodically, aching for a lovely big iron monkey wrench so as to beat the crap out of the ape in front of her. Tossing up between screaming wild indignation or using simple, yet effective brute force in which to re-educate the blond on the Russian-roulette wonder of human genetics, she huffed and sighed, pushing the towel-wrapped bundle closer to Ed's chest. Though both the former and latter of her initial responses were equally as satisfying, she grudgingly pulled on the metaphorical kid gloves and forced a gentle smile at the baffled alchemist.

"You should hold her close," She instructed tugging at the corner of the towel a little to cover the infant's tiny pink shoulder. "She likes the warmth of your skin and being near your heartbeat comforts her. She's had a real shock being born and she can't have her mother, so she needs you instead."

"B-but I don't…"

"Please, Ed?" Winry pressed. "I know you and Envy don't like being referred to as a couple but _she_ doesn't know that. All she wants is warmth, love and someone to feed her – not much."

"I don't think _I'm_really equipped to feed her," Ed grumbled, flushing slightly. Though he continued to bear a rather puckered expression, he almost grinned as the baby sniffled, then whimpered croakily – cooing against his flushed, albeit slightly grimy pectoral. That was better. All the same, Winry fought to repress her biting urge to mulch the blond into even _smaller_pieces and turned up the sunshine in her smile a notch.

"Yes, of _course_you're not. I'm only saying that you shouldn't hold prejudice against her because of Envy. It's not _her_fault she was born!"

"I didn't go that far!" Ed shot back, prickling. It certainly felt odd to say that sentence – hadn't he usually heard it directed at him through a thin sheet of rage? And it wasn't that he _hated_Envy… He just… He wasn't expecting… Fuck. Change subject – emergency situation, code red. "W-why's she all sticky anyway?" He added clumsily. "What's all this brown-green gunk?"

"Traces of meconium." Pinako looked over the little girl speculatively, button-black eyes softening as the newborn yawned. "She _was_in trouble, the poor thing. Seems to be just fine now though – very good set of pipes."

"Meco-wha?" Ed frowned, giving the greenish black smears over the baby's chest a closer inspection.

"Er… nothing…We'll give her a bath in a minute," Pinako explained quickly fishing about under the sink of the kitchenette. "You'll be cleaning up a lot of related matter soon enough though." She grinned triumphantly as she pulled out a large plastic basin and, using a handy step-stool, began filling it with tepid water. "You know, your mother said a similar thing when you were born. She was hoping for a girl…"

"She was?" Ed asked, incredulously. He was sitting stock still, afraid that any movement would damage the little creature, his eyes locked on her face as if trying to hold keep her silent by sheer willpower alone.

"Well she wasn't far off," Winry snickered, earning herself another tick on Ed's _"When__I'm__not__tied__up__as__I__am__at__the__moment,__I'm__going__to__wallop__you__this__many__times"_ tally. For the meantime he gave her a minute, dark glance before focusing back on his child. So far, so quiet… but why was she nuzzling against him?

"Right!" Pinako clapped her hands and pushed up her sleeves with a boisterous thrust. "Time to give the little one a wash. We'll get the all the afterbirth and fluid off her, make her nice and clean."

There was a moment of embarrassed silence from the direction of the couch before Ed coughed, his voice faint and meek and about as thunderstruck as a magician who's pulled the _hat_ out of the _rabbit._

"Er, Granny…Wha… wha… what is she doing?"

There was a note in Ed's voice that implied he actually _did_know what the baby was doing, only he'd really, _really_like to be proved wrong, please… The chagrin emanating from the aged vinyl sofa was so potent, Pinako _herself_found a glowing warmth invading the apples of her cheekbones underneath the thick coating of rouge and when she looked over his shoulder to witness the baby doing exactly what a baby next to a naked chest – nay, an exposed nipple - _would_do, she grunted, using all the self control she had in her miniature body to keep from bursting into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

"Winry dear," she spluttered in a tight voice. "Go to the nursery and find a bottle and some formula. It should all be suitable for newborns, or at least it will have the ages on the packet. Looks like the poor lass is hungry."

"Uh-huh," Winry squeaked, red as a radish who'd dunked itself in a fine pinot gris, backing slowly out of the room and tripping a little on a low stool while she was at it. Once in the hallway of course, she raced down the corridor, loud cackles echoing off the plain walls and greenish linoleum. Oh, one would never guess Edward was quite _that_ maternal! Envy may have been the one to give birth but it seemed he and Edward might have to fight over the title of 'Papa'. Thanks to her research on childbirth – a study prompted by Izumi's encouragement and Pinako's tales of her mother's midwifery talents – plenty of jokes about soggy bra pads and lactic crust sprung to mind. Oh, Ed was not going to forget _that_one any time soon!

_Greed ran on, his lycanthrope form easily scaling the uneven turf of the forest floor, pine needles splaying from beneath his frantic paws. His fangs bared and dry against the cool, dark air of the deep woods and he knew he'd flown much further into the welcoming sanctuary of the southern glades than any creature of the Homo Sapien classification had dared set foot, shotgun, or hunting trap._

_No man, save perhaps this one._

_If he could still be called a man, there were some that might have labelled him a God by now, and Greed wasn't entirely convinced otherwise – whether he liked it or not. Though the scent of the bruised pine needles stung the inside of his nose and the pads of his paws were cut and bleeding from the aggressive terrain, healing in odd little blasts as though his legs were sparking flint, he didn't slow down for a single beat. The man was behind him. Even with four fast paws and the keen agility and strength of a Homunculus, the bastard had been able to keep up!_

_Unbelievable.__Loose__stones__skittered__as__the__machine__of__muscle__and__fur__flew__over__them,__followed__closely__by__a__spectre__of__gold__and__blue__energy,__fizzing__and__spitting__angrily__like__a__will-o-the-wisp__charged__by__a__good__ten-thousand__volts__of__pure__insanity.__Greed__wasn't__sure__if__he'd__ever__be__able__to__distance__himself__as__much__s__he'd__have__liked,__he__could__still__feel__the__burning__of__the__paralysis__element__nipping__at__the__ends__of__his__fur__like__the__animalistic__buzz__of__intuition__before__a__storm.__Which__meant__his__pursuer__was__still__close__ – __very__close.__Damn__it!__Didn't__the__cocky__bastard_ever _run__out__of__steam?_

_Greed growled low in the back of his throat. How dare he? How dare the arsehole have a way? How dare he still have the key? Is that why the bakemono could never touch him? Is that why he'd never gotten close? Because the bastard had it the whole time, letting the little shit run rampant while he sat, comforted by the fact that he could stop him at any time?_

_Damn him. Damn him for being the arrogant prick Greed had always figured he was._

_And damn him for having the balls to just let everything go. It seemed Hohenheim of Light wanted as little to do with the Homunculi as he did with the humans he'd unleased them upon._

_But Samael had thus removed his blindfold._

Lust finished her last sweep of the back alleys surrounding the clinic before she retraced her surveillance back over the roof, heels clattering slightly on the weatherboard.

Nothing.

She could barely believe it. That… had been it? That was _all?_ Greed had just retired from the fight he'd been _winning,_faster than a bee caught in a tornado, and only after a handful of tricks and a cunning little display of fireworks? Lust's Homunculus persona was almost _embarrassed_at her older/younger brother's unsuccessful venture. Surely he could have killed _something!_Honestly, he'd been near invincible, had the power to destroy them all at his fingertips and yet… yet he'd fled – tail between his legs. It wasn't right, couldn't have been right. Something smelt fishy and it wasn't coming from the dumpster she'd rifled through moments ago, just in case.

In fact, 'something' smelled a lot like the man from the marketplace. Not the sausage spinning geriatric either, but the other one. That golden man. The one who knew about the Homunculi.

_(Hohenheim Elric…)_

Could it have been? She'd heard the name before, heard plenty about this mysterious character from the tenebrous rantings of her ornery older brother, though none of the information ejected had been particularly helpful. From the way Dante had spoken about him, she'd guessed herself that he was a powerful rival. And the man she'd bumped into at the marketplace: the similarities, his eyes, his hair – even his mannerisms - were too strong. It _had_to be Edward's father… But why? Why had he helped them? To protect his sons? Surely he would have interfered well before Greed's appearance – if he cared that much he would have prevented his sons from making their tumultuous mistake in the first place, stopped herself at Ishbal or the Fifth Laboratory. But perhaps he wasn't near at that time? Perhaps now was simply the only time he'd ever been near enough to help.

But then again, she could only imagine that she could attempt to guess his agenda as much as she could Dante's. And trying to draw the truth from her was like trying to draw blood from a stone – not to make an obvious comparison with the Great Elixir. Even if you _did_succeed, it didn't mean you'd really want to _know_ what it was. Catch twenty-two that one.

She glanced about warily for the thirty-seventh time before giving up and trudging back through the slide doors toward the Emergency rooms. Ideally she'd have locked the auto doors, but then what difference would that have made against a Homunculus? Not a hell of a lot – that was basically like trying to take shelter in a pup tent during a cyclone. But she couldn't smell him around, not even a whiff on the breeze, so she figured if that man had scared him off, God knows how, he'd done a pretty fucking fantastic job of it. Would've helped if he'd turned up sooner…

"Ah! Lust-san. All clear outside, was it?" Al's clanking, hollow footsteps echoed up the hall and he moved to stand by her, consequently _over_her - not purposefully imposing, but generating the effect all the same. Lust nodded, flicking her dark curls over one shoulder in a breezy swipe.

"Mm, same for inside, I gather?"

"I checked everywhere three times, just like you said." Al chattered nervously. "And made sure every other door was on the alarm. But I didn't find anything."

"Seems he really _isn't_following us," Lust crossed her arms, rocking on her heels. "Have you heard anything about Envy?"

"Not yet, I was just about to check on them." There was a scraping, metallic sound as Al stubbed his toe into the linoleum. "D-d'ya think he's going to be ok? And the baby?"

"You know I'm supposed to be a bad guy, right?" Lust said grimly, turning to walk the boy up the corridor, toward the Emergency Room. "I'm not supposed to worry about him like that. I'm not supposed to care about any of you." It was odd to see a suit of armour so… _melancholic._ Alphonse had even gotten the helmets plume to droop in a woebegone sort of way. Lust was surprised to find that, once someone got to know Al, to notice his kinesics and quirks inside that lifeless shell, it was had to see him as anything other than flesh and bone.

Rather grey flesh though, of course. Stiff. With no hair… and..

_(Oh God… There must be a curse that comes as an optional extra with the immortality package! After you transmute into a Homunculus you go completely round the bend!)_

She chuckled a little to herself, suddenly feeling much lighter and tentatively reached up to give Al's shoulder a pat. Her nails clicked on the steel casing, the sound resounding though his arm, but that didn't matter. He acknowledged it, and gave her a warm nod.

"But it will work out," she continued, closing her fist and tucking it beneath the opposite elbow. "Everything will be… alright."

_(But can we really say that?)_

Rounding a blind corner they suddenly found themselves face to face with a rather frantic-looking junior Rockbell, who gaped at them both in wide-eyed surprise, her arms full with a jumble of pastel pink, lavender and lemon yellow accessories. In her haste she hadn't heard the telltale clunk of Al's footsteps or the click of Lust's heels and the resulting shock of unexpectedly bumping into the pair made her up and drop everything. Paraphernalia clattered to the floor, piling nearly as high as Winry's white knees.

Somewhere in the jumble, a toy duck squeaked.

"O-oh, I wasn't counting on you being there," She gasped, lamely, staring at the mess.

"Sorry Winry!" Al chirped, displaying a rather fine example of chivalry as he dropped to one knee, helping her gather up the items. "But… what is all this stuff?"

"What is all th-Ah!" She jerked, abruptly thrusting her finger up the corridor – her expression dallying between annoyance and excitement. "Go! Go see! In the nurse's office!"

"What is?"

"Your niece, idiot." Winry threw a teddy-shaped plastic bottle at him. "Go! Go see her now, she's beautiful!"

"He's a niece?" Al breathed in consternation, dully levering to his feet.

"No! _She_is! She!" The blonde hissed, still jabbing her finger in the air, by way of looked rather like she was going to explode. And Lust, who was not at all keen on wearing chunks of Rockbell, clamped her fingers about Al's gauntlet and pulled him toward the open door several meters away, not even looking back as Winry hollered after them,

"_And__you'd__better__say__you__wanted__a__girl__too!"_

_Yes,__right,__girl,__fine.__Roger._Lust mused to herself as she guided Alphonse through the double doors of the staff room like a tugboat nudging an ocean liner. _I'm__sure__she's__a__delightful,__screaming__lump__of__gold__and__green__ – __mix__Envy__and__Edward's__lungs__together__and__you've__got__phonics__enough__to__down__an__entire__city.__And__if__the__kid__has__inherited__any__of__Envy's__vindictiveness,__her__daddy__will__be__covered__in__crap__and__sick__by__now__and-_

Lust shut her inner voices up immediately upon entering the room - the tableau she and Al had stumbled upon, completely stunned them into silence. She goggled soundlessly, feeling as though her entire body had been filled with warm jelly, her ankles with sponge and her mouth with air-whipped cream. Her Maes Hughes instinct longed for a camera. Ed was sitting in the middle of the room, curled in a low chair. In his arms was a tight bundle of white and yellow blankets into which he single-handedly aimed a small bottle at a high angle. The expression on his face was obscure - a type of wonderment Ed didn't wear often, teamed with a smidgeon of wariness and concentration. However, when he heard Al and Lust enter the room he looked up, smiling at them a bit, nervously.

"He wasn't anywhere?"

"No, Nii-san," Al said in a small voice, staring down at his brother's chest. "N-nowhere around"

He glanced at Lust, waiting for her own report; but it seemed the Sin had morphed into some form of Homunculus trifle and could not reply for the life of her. In that blanket… that blanket was… was…

She nudged Al and Al nudged back and somehow together, in a series of elbows and shuffles, the pair managed to approach, their movements oddly sluggish in the heavy, emotional atmosphere of the room. Inside the wrappings, inside the cocoon of silky white and yellow lay a sweet, soft pink face - crystalline blue eyes cracked open a peep and resting unfocussed on the small bottle before it. Tiny crooked fingers, like soft plush ferns uncurling, poked out over the satin edge of the wool blanket, decorated by crescents of nails no bigger than silver cachous. Lust felt her throat knit tightly as she gazed down, her breath caught thickly in a web of emotion.

_(If I didn't know better, I would think I was human right now. If I just forgot who I was… Maybe I could be…)_

Of course, she knew she was being ridiculous, she'd seen babies on so many different occasions; there was no logical reason why this particular tyke should affect her in such a way. Why _should_it be any different? Because it was Envy's? She was Envy's? Her… brother's. The baby smelt like him, the night Lust had hugged him: a muted aroma of warm skin and hair, a headily mortal smell tainted only slightly by a sharp edge of medical cleanser. Added in on top of that were the floral tones of baby powder and the creamy whiff of formula, the overall sensation now entirely overpowering Lust's sensitive nose. She reeled a bit, suddenly yearning Al's lack at sensory perception and gripped the sturdy shoulder beside her, blinking fast a few times. No fair, this psychological warfare – Homunculi weren't _supposed_to get weepy – it wasn't in the manual. How dare that little infant be so… _aggressively_sweet!

"H-how….did…. What…. N-name?" She managed, sniffing. But her nose was _only_running because of the cold air, obviously, and those tears in her eyes had formed because that damned lump in her throat was choking her. That's all. Right? She coughed again, politely and smiled. "Do you have a name for her?"

"Not yet," Ed admitted quietly, looking away. "I was… um… I was going to ask Envy if he had any suggestions… You know. Being the… m-mother and all…"

"How is Envy?" Al said, wringing his hands together in tentative metallic scrapes. He itched to be able to hold the baby, but he didn't trust his clumsily large fingers with something so delicate. A pang of sadness chilled the bottom of his soul, but he shrugged it off – he had better things to worry about than himself. "I-Is he going to be ok?"

"Yes," Ed replied quickly, stubbornly, while Pinako chewed back any opposing comments as she quietly continued folding a pile of clean cloth nappies. She had clear grounds to say otherwise, especially after witnessing Envy's largely debilitated condition: nternal bleeding, shock, exhaustion and most probably hypothermia, the mix was not an optimal one. Even the baby had suffered slightly toward the end, the blood and oxygen pumped though her umbilical cord had probably been cut to the minimum, almost at the point of sectioning her off entirely. No wonder she hadn't had the energy to scream once she was born. She seemed alright now though. A little sleepy, a little cranky, but just fine.

However, her mother…

"Y-you should try to give him these," Al said gently, pulling the small lead canister from the little carry pouch strapped to his leg that usually housed his array chalk. "M-maybe they'd work…"

"I wonder," Ed sucked on his lower lip, rubbing his bandaged cheek against his metal shoulder, shifting his grip on the little girl slightly. It was hard trying to hold her with one hand that didn't work, but he'd rather that than have to tell Winry he'd damaged her pride and joy again. He'd been pummelled enough today, thankyou very much. "I wonder if that would work…"

Lust opened her mouth and went to correct him – Envy wasn't a homunculus anymore and humans couldn't ingest the stones. They would probably do more harm than good. But there was no need: the look on his face was that of tired scepticism. He knew. He knew that there was little more he could do.

Life for a life?

_Touka koukan…_

Nightfall. And dread had already cemented the bottom of Edward's stomach to his legs. Nails of his left hand bitten down to the bleeding quick, his teeth now chattering over his steel digits in vain, he paced the floor – his footsteps almost embossed in the drab plastic coating after what appeared to be his thousandth round of the sofas. Once again his mind was caught on the familiar carousel of worry and guilt – his conscience howling obscenities at him – clearing set to milk his contrition for all it was worth, while his gut lurched at the uncomfortable giddy motion.

_Up:_How long does an operation last?

_Down:_How long had it lasted the first time?

_Up:_Could he remember?

_Down:_Did longer mean it was more serious?

_Up:_His Automail surgery had lasted _days_and he'd pulled through just fine.

_Down:_Was that a good thing? Did that mean he'd be ok?

Up, down, up, down, round and round and _God_… Edward felt like being sick from the centrifugal force of the tension alone. He pawed at his neck hopelessly, almost jumping through the ceiling when Izumi and Warner fall into the room – practically slumping against the doorframe in exhaustion. The other heads in the room snapped up in unison, breaking through the trepidation weighting the silence. But their faces fell the same as Edward's when they caught the expressions of the two. There was something not entirely comforting about a dual collaboration of part fatigue, part... submission? Acceptance? It certainly wasn't relief or celebration... did that mean...?

_Envy is dead._

Pinako shook her head, still rocking the newborn gently in the carrier Winry had found and grit her teeth on her unlit pipe. No one has spoken for hours, no one felt it was right. Lust had left a few times to do extra security checks on the parameter, but apart from that... silence. Admiring the baby had burnt up some of the time, but once she'd become too sleepy, Pinako shooed the onlookers away – ever the eighth dwarf, Irritable, protecting Snow White.

Izumi went to speak, to say something, but Ed was already on his feet. He didn't like the look on her face... He couldn't see,

_Envy is dead._

Couldn't hear her mouth forming the words. Numbness clamped around his lungs as he thrust himself out of his chair, barrelling past his teacher and the doctor, not waiting for the announcement he knew was bound to come. Perhaps... perhaps if he didn't hear it, then it wouldn't be true. If he didn't know, then... then reality, his reality couldn't process it. And Envy wouldn't be. Wouldn't be...

_Envy is dead._

_(Nononononononono!)_

"Edward!" Izumi protested weakly, clenching her fists and clawing up a bit of the material of her blood-spotted jeans. She had changed into a smock, but not for awhile as she and Christopher worked frantically on Envy's failing body. "D-don't... he's-"

But he was already out the door.

Couldn't hear the last of it. Not those words.

_(Nononononononononononononono.)_

He rushed out into the corridor, skidding in his haste and falling to the side, his palm leaving a slippery hand print on the linoleum while his inner mantra of denial pounded a deafening beat inside his head. He lost his footing again at the door to the operating theatre and scrabbled desperately at the paint; finally managing to compose himself enough to enter the room. The bright light from the fluorescent beams which lined up down the corridor in single file regiments cloaked around him as he paused in the doorway a second, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness of the surgery. The scent of medicine and saline, bandages and iodine pinched his nose, tearing sharply at the back of his throat. Hospital scents had always made him edgy – that plasticky, waxy, sanitary smell that seemed to emulate only from band-aid wrappers and new hot water bottles. He was reminded of needles, of the red string in sticking plasters and the buzzy bees made from swabs and floss that the dentist used to give himself and Al after their bi-annual check-up. The memories... the odors… the quiet, hushed atmosphere, the gelate of cleanliness over pain – all of it made him feel slightly ill and he clutched at the drape of his t-shirt, padding quietly over to the gurney at the centre of the room.

Envy was lying still and flat under a thick white sheet that was drawn up to his chest. His thin white forearms were resting gently on top, once again threaded with IV needles and patched with thick straps of tape that hold the tubes in place. His shoulders appeared knobbly and frighteningly large compared to his emaciated biceps and desperately thin chest and his thick brackish mane, now limp and crusted with mud, draped over his pillow, down the back of the headboard. For once, Edward could see his forehead as his unruly bangs had been tidily swept away. There was a mask on his face of moulded clear plastic that fogged lightly with each breath. His eyes were closed.

Ed's hands, clenched into tight fists, drummed his sides as he looked over the other, worrying his now chafed lower lip in his teeth. Envy was sick. He'd been sick for a long, long time - there truly wasn't any denying it. Ed had known, of course; he'd seen the way the ex-Sin's translucent skin had pulled against his bones like the paper covering the structure of a kite, seen the dark stains of sleeplessness tattooed beneath his eyes. The day in which he'd collapsed – that was still a recent, sturdy memory. Ed had barely been able to think when he'd found him sprawled on the floor, unmoving, barely breathing and cold as ice. All he could do was run, find someone to help. Find someone who knew what to do. It was the same with the traumatic birth of the Homunculus. All he could do was pass the responsibility to someone else. Certainly he'd bought Envy out of his coma, but it wasn't the same. Izumi had helped with the pregnancy, provided them a place, a home to let Envy stay while he grudgingly accepted the life growing inside him.

And what had Edward done? What had he _really_done for him?

Envy was mortal now. No matter what he said, he had to be. Mortal. Frail. Dying.

_(Nononononono!)_

Ed pulled the canister of stones out of his pocket and sighed. The incomplete Philosopher's Stone. The Great Elixir with just a pinch too much salt. Homunculus blood. As comforting as it might have been to pretend that the baubles could actually help Envy, Ed knew that it was impossible. Envy was playing by human rules now – impeded by evanescence of mortality. There was little that could help him, and Ed had already run to his lifeline. He hadn't another. So what options were left? No alchemy he knew was going to save him, no science, no theories. Rose had been right back in Lior when she'd talked of her beliefs, her faith. About humans needing something other than facts and figures, something greater than tangibility. Than answers. Hope was all he had left, as illogical and unmathematical as it was, he could only sit and wait and believe.

That everything would work out.

Carefully edging around the bed, Ed found a little chair beside the nightstand and eased himself into it, never once taking his eyes off Envy's ghostly features. Sitting still he tried to concentrate, once again seeking to will the life back into the other as he had done so many months ago. He knew that this time it would be unwise to try and relocate Envy to the shower, but… Would it work if he sat still and stared for long enough? If he prayed hard enough, like Roze had for Cain? If he washed him clean with his eyes alone, bleeding the grey and starkness from his features? If he gave him a home and told him he could share it.

_(What if you wanted to stay, Envy? I can't really say no. I don't…really want you to go. Not really… it wouldn't be right…)_

But the whine from the electric light put him off and the hum of the machinery in the room unnerved him. At least the beep of the pulse monitor was set to silent, the sound of the regular blip was about as abrasive as the tick of a clock to a migraine victim. But he could still feel the burn of the encompassing white noise as it invaded his meditation and he huffed irritably, turning to take Envy's cold, tape-patchworked hand instead, squeezing his fingers with careful, meek pressure. After a moment, while the alchemist was lost in intense concentration, Envy's hand moved a little and his eyes flickered open. The violet orbs that had held more power than Edward could have imagined, burned so bright and hot with peerless fury, regarded their visitor with jaded recognition. Cool, blue lips parted, gummed a little with coagulated moisture and drifted through letter formations, barely able to construct words.

_"E-ed…"_

"I'm here," the alchemist breathed, quickly shifting again to give Envy his full attention. "I'm here, don't worry. You're not alone."

He wasn't sure why he'd added the last part, but it sounded right. Somewhere on the foggy horizon of memory, he could remember Al saying something of the like. In response, the thin fingers pulsed again and he felt his grip tightening around them, holding on.

_"Buh?"_

The word come out as a puff of breath – barely comprehensable, but Edward knew what Envy meant and smiled, though it was strained and brittle.

"A girl. It was a little girl."

_"Girl?"_

Ed was almost amused to find that the other was just as surprised as he at the gender of their child. His head rocked a little as though he was shaking it in bemusement and his slender brows flexed.

"I think we were both expecting a boy."

_"Mmm."_

"She's healthy though," Ed continued, deciding somewhat that he should. It was like a wagon rolling down a hill: once the momentum started, there was no stopping it. Normally he tended not to be too garrulous – that was Al's forte. But Envy was… so still, so lifeless. And every time he replied, every time a breathy response gusted past those lips, it was proof that he was clinging on. "S-she's fine. You can see her when you're better."

_"E-ed…"_

"No, really," He interrupted, shaking his head, his smile stretching a little too much. It hurt… but it was nothing compared to the pain in his chest. That weight. "I promise. But you have to get better…Y-you can only see her if you're better."

_"E-ed… I-"_

"You're are! You're going to see her!" Panic. Golden eyes had begun to fill with salty tears, polishing the sunny irises til they sparkled. He wasn't crying – he wasn't! Not him! He wasn't getting emotional over this – Envy was alright, he just... didn't look it right now. "You're going to be fine, Envy. You're… You can…"

_"Not… Listening… shut…"_

"No! I'm not going to listen!" Ed cried, springing up suddenly and leaning in close to Envy's body – eyes wild and stinging. His foot caught on something, a cable... wire... he wasn't sure, wasn't really paying attention. Instead he looked over Envy's face, Envy's tired, sunken, grey face and desperately sucked at his trembling lower lip as the ex-Sin's willowy fingers curl around the edge of the oxygen mask, tugging it gently down over his chin. It was getting in the way.

_"Ed... Listen... I'm not..."_

"Don't do that!" the alchemist yelped, pinching at the plastic nosepiece in effort to pull the implement back into position. "T-that... you need that. It's helping you breathe or something. Don't move it! Warner put it there for a reason...D-don't..."

His voice slipped as Envy slowly shook his head no, sentence trickling into the depressing, electrical silence of the room. Suddenly he seemed so much... older, maturing in what seemed to be the blink of an eye. The snarky, acidic creature that he had rescued from the cold floor of the collapsing townhouse in the Old City had disappeared. What lay before him was something much more human, something that felt, something that hurt. And something that, gracefully, minus the theatrics his predecessor would have employed without question, knew when it's time was wearing thin.

"No..." Ed's voice was thick now, stuck, the words tumbling out in cumbersome syllables. "You can't... I never answered you. I haven't answered you yet. Yesterday... when we were in the kitchen, I never answered you. I-"

_"Ed... s-stop... I don't... I'm going-"_

"You're not going to. You can't. She needs you. The baby needs you. Izumi needs you a-and..."

_"No... Ed... listen..."_

"I won't... I know what you're going to say and I won't accept it. You can't die! You can't leave! I don't care if you stay! You can stay just... d-don't... don't..."

Ed gasped in surprise as Envy hissed, his breath wheezing, fingers clenching around the alchemist's as hard as he can manage. A fierce light flared beneath the indigo of his eyes for a second, then faded – the effort proving too much for his exhausted body to maintain. Labor had taken his body on a harrowing ride through worlds of excruciating agony and had sapped his strength from him – leaving little left for his body to recover and heal. The world was starting to fade out again, though Edward still remained a bright imprint against the darkness. Like a marker. A beacon. Illuminating what though? Exposing the path to where?

And it was so... tiresome now. To draw those breaths, to force his lungs to filter to oxygen, to pump another liter of blood around his cold body. What was the point when everything was so numb anyway? What was the point? Why should he hurt and fight anymore? He'd given them what they wanted - the thing that everyone had been after from the beginning. Ed had his baby... the girl. The daughter. There was nothing for him to stay for. Envy's head tipped to the side, taking in one last glance of the beautiful, golden apparition before his lashes started to fall. He had nothing left - just as he'd said in the first place. He'd only hoped too late that he'd be proven wrong.

_And yet..._

_"Shut__up..."_ He breathed in a silky whisper, taking in a shaky breath as the glow from the open doorway that framed Ed's form into unearthly resplendence, faded, grow dim. _"Shut__up...__you...__stupid...__bast-"_

It took a moment for Ed to realize the pulse monitor has quietly, apologetically flat-lined. To register that Envy's hand had stopped squeezing his fingers and had slipped gently back to the sheet on the thin padding of the table. Envy's eyes were closed, his face relaxed – peaceful, as though he were sleeping. Nothing more. He noted this, as he noted everything with his learned eyes. The little clock on the beside table clicked its tongue sadly.

_Time of death: One forty two am..._

What he didn't notice is that the room was beginning to blur as the tears overcome his staunch denial and force his body into shaking resignation, though if asked, he wouldn't have said he was crying at all. Not him. No... no he wouldn't cry, couldn't... because it wasn't fair. His hands trembled – even the fleshless one – as he carefully crossed Envy's chest with his slender forearm, leaning once again into the cool body in something of a hug, yet all sensation is lost He couldn't breathe, his chest seized, his fingers tingled from the sudden, unbearable onslaught of unwanted emotion. It had all come to this and this was the then the minute hand on the clock moved again, the energy pulsed in the electric light, racing on its continuous A/C stream, Ed's heart beat a steady thrum and the life in the room continued around the single part of it that had stopped. Grief distilled in a moment and then was forgotten by time.

But he didn't notice that either. He sat still, quiet in his unlikely repose, wondering why it hurt so much, why his eyes still prickled and why he couldn't think through the thicket of lament in which he'd become so willingly lost. His lips were dry and his soul felt empty. He had nothing to say nor did his brain, his libido, his subconscious or his ego; none could find any words that fit or felt right. But his heart let itself twist in something of a pang of regret and gently whispered to the poor creature who had bought a new life into the world at the cost of its own.

"I...I don't mind if you stay... I.. I want you to stay Envy... She needs you..."

_I need you..._

_I don't want you to go..._


	16. IdI

**Dark Humor.**

_Chapter 16: The Id and I._

Machines, Envy had found, were not particularly reliable objects.

Of course, the more complex the machine, the more likely it was to malfunction and the greater the difficulty factor of repairing it became. Winry might have argued that a wristwatch had a far better chance of lasting years without winding down than a bicycle - which also used a similar, simpler clockwork-style mechanism on the gearbox, yet was liable to throw its chain with constant use. And Envy would have replied, indulging in as much vitriolic sarcasm as pertinently possible, that perhaps the bike would crap out every two hundred miles or so, but _fuck_ turning a watch over and reconnecting the chain. Only nut jobs knew how to repair something so complex, and yes, sadly but typically, Winry fit rather snugly into that pigeonhole – ostensibly, at a fault all her own.

However, there were plenty of machines even the most articulate of nut jobs couldn't fix, and these were undoubtedly complicated items. For, once they broke down, they required a frighteningly superior level of repair than a few sets of skilled hands pottering about in their cogs. The human heart, the millwheel of the human body, was one of these specialist items; though it had the ability to resume pumping, literally, the fuel of life, there were so many factors that could impede things. Perhaps the heart might be sick, or drained - starved through hemorrhage or injury of the blood it required. It might be old, weak, or affected by stimulants. It could have simply lost hope, scarred by the burn of a weary soul that could no longer rally itself to survive and simply burnt itself out by the sheer pain of loss or disappointment. And once the heart had gone – truly gone – little hope remained; for then Time, the meridian of all machines, ceased for the owner of the heart, and the world would slowly, apologetically, draw to a close.

Time, arguably, is a metaphysical element. Unlike a watch or bicycle or a heart, it does not possess tangible workings, save for logical representations that log its passing through various forms - yet Time could malfunction, just as any other machine; Time could slow down to such a sluggish rate that even Evolution could look back at it and think, _Goodness,__someone__needs__a__tipple_. Time could even run backwards if a suspiciously dexterous nut job could manage tuning it to do so. Most importantly, however, Time could start and stop - seemingly of its own will - sometimes for all, sometimes for one single individual. In human terms, it began with the fertilization of an egg in the womb and ceased the moment the heart has failed – clinging on in kinetic readiness for the pump to spark into life again. The break in the steady rhythm of a heartbeat is like a pause in a sentence: there is certainly room to continue, more to be written, but if one leaves the ink too long, the flow of the prose will die.

And so will the heart. And so will Time.

To screw with Time, most fantastically of course, were other universal factors hanging off existence that were equally as invisible and supernatural - and on a scale much higher than any mere human could reach. The Gate was among the most prominent of these, for it possessed the ability to open doors to other worlds, other lives, and of course, to an abundance of creatures who could easily pop the bonnet and toy with Time's sprockets, despite the difficulty mortals had with it, generally making first-class nuisance of themselves. One might actually describe the beastly phenomenon as the "Gate of Nut Jobs" - but one would have to be incessantly brave and have the ability to run very, very fast.

Envy knew what it was like to live in a world where Time could not dominate. He remembered the strange, soundless, soulless golden world inside the Gate, knew all too well the cold glow of what some humans referred to as the 'false light'- the illicit copy of the warm, heavenly spark that was supposed to transport their astral beings onto a higher plane. The light, he knew, was seething and evil. It swarmed with ill-intent and, once the alchemists started poking at it, spewed forth plague about the earth like a lanced boil.

Envy knew the Gate. He knew death. And he knew the cold world swathed in golden light that lay beyond the dark doors – yet only as a child recognized its world within the womb. He remembered the sense of unending desire, the voraciousness for completion, the hunger for something that even the Gate itself couldn't seem to create, nor explain. Beyond the murky doors, Envy had only known darkness and light as two very separate elements; grey did not have weight nor meaning in the golden world. The sense of will and the luxury of choice did not exist. He had been reborn from the belly of the beast as a physical representation of that hell, that appetite. He had destroyed, he had lied, he had loved without loving and had hated fiercely – on a level than no human soul could bear. He had clawed furiously at the life around him, draining it in attempt to fill his inexplicable need for… for….

For what the Gate could never contain. He hadn't realized it before, but he'd taken a subconscious stab at a fairly decent hypothesis. Humans and homunculi differed greatly in the physical sense - that was obvious - and the paramount anomaly was the exclusion of the mortal soul. The Gate could only contain metaphysical matter: clumps of atoms - particles of what the human body was comprised of - that were surrendered for the sake of both simple and complex alchemic transmutations. The golden world held a mishmash of elements that could no longer exist on Amestris's sentient plane, like a multi-versal strip of flypaper that caught the leftovers from alchemic offerings, but it could not halt the transgression of the immortal soul from one world to the next. The meddlers, the practiced – all of those who, at one point, were faced with the looming dark doors - they might have thought at one time that the World Gate they'd uncovered was one and the same as that of their theorized "Heaven"; certainly there were gates and golden light as they had written in their scriptures. But the Gate was false. It was not salvation, and what passed through it could not keep any nuance of soul-matter – for this would evaporate indefinitely to wherever it was meant to go.

And hence the trouble remained: A human body will remember it had a soul. It will know when the soul is no longer present and it will yearn for it, like a ghost limb or a fancied object gone missing – the final key, the completion of what it once was. A soul was not a human without a body, and a body was not human without a soul. It was a homunculus.

Incomplete, wanting, unaware of what it was supposed to obtain, and subject to nothing but the surging waves of tremendous, insatiable demand that powered its mosaic mind. The body remembered the soul; it remembered what the soul felt; it remembered what the soul required. Forever within the Gate and the creatures it whelped, there were ghosts of the lost tattoo that had made them people, things. Real. Without it, they were nothing. Powerful, but nothing all the same.

And now Envy knew. He understood why he could put a name to his hatred, yet never complete it. He knew why he'd been charged by his fury, his anorexic adhesion to the living world - one that had been controlled through spiritual deprivation by his confusion and rage. He'd never wanted control, and he'd never received it. But he'd been controlled, or at least steered toward tragedy – Dante singing at the helm. She'd nurtured him, ruled him. She'd been his guide, his Bible – all he had known and all he'd been willing to accept. Envy had only cared for destruction, of which Dante could provide in abundance – and he'd been _fine_with that. He'd clung to it and survived, turning on his own little cog of existence that simply was just another that worked the motions of his mother's rotten game.

Just like a machine. Just like Time.

_On the golden plane, nothing could be touched by the mechanisms of the waking world; nothing could and would ever change. But Envy was all right with that. Existence could hiccup around him – stopping and starting like a spluttering motor, as it was wont to do - and he would pay it no mind. Whether he remained part of the flow, synchronized, or stood watching on the bank, he had his memories, he had his will, and he now realized the importance of choices. Of pain, and joy, and souls. He found the tawny plane much less of a threat now. He had no reason to be afraid here. Nothing could touch him – mortal or immortal, and he was lost within it, content in his memories and the knowledge he had gained. What more did he need? He had lived and he had learnt. He had suffered, but he had grown so much because of it._

_Envy squinted a little and stepped into the brightness, feeling his newborn soul lift and open, as though rising from his chest like a plume of soft smoke to play in the air above. Walking toward the gold, he found himself smiling a little, arms crossing over his middle._

_And, ever so little, he smiled._

_There were other things that could stop Time aside from immortality and death._

_One of those things was love._

It was on a Tuesday that Hohenheim Elric decided to pay a friendly visit to the newest addition to his remarkably dysfunctional family - despite the fact he was not supposed to know of her existence, nor Edward's whereabouts for that matter. Hohenheim had decided long ago that such trivial things as logical answers were really less of a pressing importance than they seemed, and hitherto he tended not to execute any form of effort into their creation. The hidden fact of the matter, of course, was that Edward's father was really a dreadful liar and rarely managed to retain a straight composure whilst attempting to blame his eldest son for pillaging the last of Trisha's homemade macaroons; instead he had found that making a bolt for his cellar-come-laboratory was a much better plan. His darling wife, who had a _frightfully_ effective pitching arm, would find herself audience to a most apologetic alchemist later, when Edward had been tucked into bed - said son never really losing out in the first place, since his mother would then shower him with kisses, explaining that his father was a _"naughty,__naughty__mister!"_ and that Edward could have as many cookies as he wanted out of the new batch because he was _"such__a__good__boy"._

As time went on, Hohenheim began negating the use of arbitrary excuses and instead focused on improving his worldly collection of trivia and anecdotes - most of which, he found, were quite successful for shelving even considerably damaging_faux__pas;_though of course, the backlash of his unique conversation manner left the majority of his acquaintances under the impression that he was quite, quite mad. However, Hohenheim continued unabashed in perfecting his divertive commentary, finally resulting with the trick of turning almost any situation into a footnote on the weather. Indefinitely, being as much as a traveler as he was, Hohenheim always made sure to be clued up on the forecast and took great joy in predicting the pattern for the day. Dante had once scolded him for cloud-watching when he was supposed to be refining his tinctures for purification, announcing snidely that although he might consider his powers near-deific, he was not, and could not become a God. That feat was impossible for humans, and for good reason. Hohenheim had yawned lethargically, adding that if they could, they would definitely do something about unexpected showers in February.

He whistled as he rounded the corner into Izumi's street, arms swinging at his sides - a small, yellow, hand knit bunny poking out of his breast pocket like a rather unusual corsage. Unfortunately, as he'd had to leave the town so fast while tailing Greed as far as the northern border, he hadn't been able to find out the baby's sex; but he considered the soft pale lemon colour to be suitable for either a girl or a boy. Well, maybe a very _little_boy. Besides, he certainly wasn't about to turn up empty-handed! This baby was his first and possibly - at the rate Ed and Al were hurtling down their nominated paths of total self decimation - _only_ grandchild; indubitably, Hohenheim Elric thought it his duty - nay, his _right__-_to turn up on Izumi's doorstep armed with peppermint candy, a small, yarn leropid and an uncharacteristically large smile plastered on his face.

Edward, who was perched on said doorstep, his arms crossed over his chest like a bouncer - if not an amusingly ineffective one - almost fell out of his own surprise when the tall, solid lump of his father strode into view and waved pleasantly from the grass verge. Naturally, he'd been waiting for Greed to show up - like one waits for a storm, watching the clouds for changes, tasting the air - and the atmosphere around Izumi's little house had been so heavy the last few weeks, it seemed as though the air itself had been set in concrete. Izumi had been keen on moving accommodation, mentioning repeatedly that she knew of a safe house where they could hide - especially while the baby was so little. But Edward dug his heels in, refusing to budge; Greed may have known where they were, but at least they were in a familiar environment, as opposed to a place where they might miss a trick. Izumi was on good terms with her neighbors and the township they all knew like the backs of their hands. Leaving abruptly would have attracted suspicion, and Edward didn't want to risk being seen as going A.W.O.L by the military, despite what Mustang might have noted about his situation. Besides, he was dead-certain that Greed would be able to follow them wherever they went. With as developed senses of smell as a homunculi possessed, they'd surely be as easy to trace as a fart under the blankets. Perhaps leaving might have been a good idea, but their cargo was far too delicate, and Edward didn't want to run. Not from _him._

Of course, it was highly likely that Hohenheim could have easily been the homunculus wearing the blond man's guise, but Lust - who was sitting just inside reading her book at the kitchen table - hadn't stirred, and essentially this meant that she hadn't caught any type of unusual scent. Theoretically, this Hohenheim-figure was the genuine article.

Ed was sure, for several popular reasons, he would have preferred Greed.

"Hallo, Edward," the man greeted him, smiling jovially. "Nice day, isn't it?"

"I oughtta slap you," Ed hissed in reply, his arms tightening about his chest, hiding his twitching knuckles in their pits. "I really oughtta pummel you one for even showing your face around here, you bastard!"

Hohenheim twitched in surprise, then glanced about himself, searching for the poor sod of whom Edward must have been snarling at. As he found no one else hiding about his person or the immediate vicinity, Hohenheim gave a light cough and decided to try again. Perhaps it was just a bit early in the day for his son?

"Nice day, isn't it Edward?" he repeated, turning the smile on full force, once again.

"You have _some_ nerve showing up here," Ed fumed in return, practically steaming at the earlobes. "What the hell are you doing here? You get lost up your ass or something?"

"Er," Hohenheim stumbled a moment, scratching beneath the tie holding his unruly hair hostage in a long, flaxen tail. "Yes. Well… it _has_been awhile, hasn't it?"

"Been awhile? _Been__awhile?"_The boy simmered. "Al was in _diapers_last time you saw him! He was barely able to say his own name! And Mom… You never even bothered to _write_her! You never even came to the funeral, you cheap shit! Is that your idea of a divorce, huh? Just up and leave your family hanging - waiting until your spouse _dies_before you even consider making a move to reconcile with us?"

"I'm here now," Hohenheim answered, steadily.

"You want money, don't you?"

"No." The older man sighed patiently, taking a few steps toward the house. Edward glowered in retaliation, unmoving - hackles rising like a dutiful guard dog. He even managed to growl a little. "No, I do not want money. It's been… difficult-"

"Difficult! Are you insane? Didn't you hear me before? Our mother _died._She _died,_you complete tosspot. You wanna know how easy it is for two kids to survive when their whole world crashes down around their ears? Not. Easy. Not very _fucking_easy. God, you're the biggest shit-head."

"Difficult..." There was a sigh. "...to get back into the country with the recent laws on the state borders."

"What the hell does that have to do with the price of shit? Aren't you some sort of kick-shit super-alchemist? Aren't you able to-" Edward gesticulated violently. "-_move_a border or something?"

Of course, this was ludicrous; Edward knew all too well how difficult it was to travel from country to country, especially when one was as infamous as he. He doubted Hohenheim would have been completely stripped from the Military's agenda, and he didn't doubt that the checkpoints probably had a mug shot of him lacquered by coffee and tea spills to a coaster somewhere. The power-pole of a man would also have found it much harder to disguise himself, as Edward's smaller frame had greater flexibility when it came to altering the size and shape of a character. However, he pushed these circumspections aside, preferring for the moment to draw his argument out a little longer.

"I believe the saying is 'the price of fish', Edward," Hohenheim corrected his son, smoothly. "And no. While there is plenty that I can do as an alchemist, I must also live as a human. There are rules and regulations to follow." He smiled a little, the corner of his mouth hitching up, snickering behind its fingers secretively. "I cannot move as easily as some people can."

"Liar," Ed snapped. "You're a stinking liar! You just didn't make the effort because you _wanted_to be gone. But I wouldn't expect any more of you." Trusting himself to keep a lid on his temper now, Edward swung to his feet.

"That isn't all of it." Hohenheim shook his head. "Some people don't want other people to be found by _certain_ people."

"Oh, right, you mean the Military?" Ed scuffed his boot against the grass, bitterly. "How they were trying to smoke you out before Mustang discovered me? Don't think I'm going to buy that! You're supposed to be a great alchemist! Mom said so! If you're so swell, you should have been able to evade the military easily and come home. _Difficult_my ass, you're making excuses, you bastard liar. Don't try to hide it."

"If that's what you're going to believe, then I guess it's true."

"Why are you here, anyway? You never said." Ed's eyes narrowed. The timing was all a little _too_convenient and suspicious. "Can't be _just_to check up on us, finally…"

"I came -" Hohenheim brightened almost on cue. "- because I wanted to give someone a gift." He motioned lightly to his pocket.

Edward looked at the bunny, then looked at Hohenheim.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's a bunny."

"Yes, but what's it doing _here?"_ Edward was immediately on edge. There was only one person in the household who would appreciate such a gift, and no one outside Izumi's watchful eye was supposed to know about her. "You know, Al's a bit old for stuffed toys now."

"Oh, it's not for Alphonse," Hohenheim told him, casually. "It's for the little one."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Edward said, suddenly turning pale. The entire household - Lust and Warner included - had promised not to mention the baby to anyone; not even on pain of death.

"Edward, do you mind if I come in for a cup of tea?"

"Only if you're willing to wear it," Edward growled flatly as he struggled to remain nonchalant. The blond hadn't quite figured out his exact feelings toward the child, but he wasn't about to put her in danger because he was mentally inconclusive. She was worth a lot more to him than that. And yet, one out of the nine that had sworn to secrecy had gone and let the cat out of the bag. They must have - how else would the bastard have found out about her? And who the hell would have done such a thing? Edward shrugged, trying not to feel too betrayed before he'd really considered the truth of the matter. "There's nothing for you here, you bastard. Piss off."

"Please," Hohenheim pressed gently, padding forward to the front stoop. His expression still bore his usual mask of vacant cheerfulness, yet his voice had taken on a slight hint of urgency. "I really think I should come in."

"And I think you ought to get fucked. Sideways. With a wrench and a bag of cat litter. No!"

"It's very important," the man continued, shaking his head a little; he clearly wasn't going to go away. Edward snarled, leaping up to take a swing at the older man's pathetic mug.

"Look, I told you-"

"You're Edward's and Alphonse's father, aren't you?" Another voice - honeyed and smooth like silken bed sheets - cut in softly; waving a white flag, or more aptly, a white pair of panties, in between the two warring family members. Lust smiled vaguely from the doorway, her arms crossed beneath her buxom chest, and Edward frowned in return, not entirely sure whether he liked the look on her face or not. Such expressions were uncharacteristic of the naturally devious homunculus; such expressions let wolves inside the house, only thinly disguised in red cloaks and the curious ability to mimic human speech patterns. Yet when he opened his mouth to object, she simply continued over him.

"I've just boiled the kettle. Tea with sugar and milk?"

"Sounds good to me." Hohenheim smiled, easily sidestepping his flabbergasted son to follow Lust's curvaceous silhouette into the house, leaving nothing but an odd waft of faint, sweet perfume, and a truckload of confused vibes buzzing in the atmosphere. Edward's mouth swung on soundless hinges as his body swiveled around to the house and his feet automatically began trudging toward the open doorway, after them. What the hell was Lust thinking? Was she insane? Was she…?

Edward stopped before the door of the lounge, his fingers digging into the decorative wood surrounding the opening. Had Lust been the one to tell Hohenheim about the baby? Had _she_ let their precious secret out? But how? Why? When would she have left? In the night, or something? And how could she have known Hohenheim, unless…

_Our Master._

_There has to be someone controlling the homunculi._

It was him: The Master, the Boss, the fucking_Asshole__in__Chief_. It had to be. Who else had been so engrossed in alchemy that they would have left their family alone to rot behind them? Who else could have been that _sickeningly_shallow? Edward gritted his teeth as the old man leaned over the baby carrier that was stationed on the lounge couch, and cleared his throat noisily, drowning out Hohenheim's cooing.

"Well… What are you waiting for? Take her."

"Excuse me?" Hohenheim peered over his shoulder, glasses slipping a little down his prominent nose. "Take her where?"

"That's who you came for, wasn't it?" Edward scowled, viciously. "The kid. You're gonna steal her, use her for your own sick plans. I know you. I'm onto you." He glared at Lust. "And you, too. You were just waiting for him, weren't you…?"

Hohenheim and Lust exchanged looks which clearly stated that while they both admitted to knowing Edward, neither were actually sure he was from the same planet. Lust sucked in her crimson-flushed lower lip and knitted her fingers together in front of her, whilst Hohenheim managed to remain politely mystified.

"Edward?" he began, softly. "I don't know who you're thinking of, but I'm not going to take this child…"

"Yes you are!" Ed snarled. "You are, 'cause you're the boss of those guys!" He pointed wildly at the only homunculus in the room, his eyes flaring like the torches of a miniature lynch mob. "You're the one directing them all! God, it's so obvious now!"

"Edward…"

"I don't know why I didn't think of it before! Probably never crossed my mind because Al and I were too busy living your _lie_ that we didn't have time to consider the possibility that it might've been you behind it all! You rancid old fart!"

"Edward." Hohenheim shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Suuuure you don't!" Ed marched over to the carrier, curling his steel fingers tightly around his father's arm. "Just keep running with that one, you bastard - maybe someone will believe you. But for now… get out! Get out of my house -"

"This is your house?"

"It's not," Lust added, glancing sideways at the small, blond, steaming wreck. "It's his _teacher's_ house. He's freeloading."

"You!" Ed scowled, turning his interrogation lamps toward her face. "You! You led him right to us! If I'd known you were working for him-"

"I'm not!"

"I think you're mistaken, son. I don't recall this lady as ever being in my employment."

"Don't call me son, you stinking weasel-shit!"

"Edward!"

"Though I can't say I'm really the best with names and faces."

"Don't you try to pull the wool over, Lust! I trusted you!"

"He's _not_ the leader of the homunculi! D-!"

Lust stopped herself abruptly in mid-sentence, her eyes widening at her sudden outburst that could have very nearly cost her more than her own un-life. If Edward found out, he'd want answers, and those answers weren't ones she was authorized to give. As it was, the blond frowned impossibly harder, his hands drawing slowly away from Hohenheim's sleeve. The momentum of gravity in the room seemed to belly flop into a brick wall of uncomfortable silence, until Hohenheim piped up, quite casually,

"Don't be silly, Edward. Homunculi aren't real."

Lust looked at Edward. Edward looked at Lust. Both let the statement macerate for an astonished moment, then - still as incredulous - turned their attention back to the older man.

"But…" Edward stammered, feeling the wrench grinding in his works; already his fierce composure was beginning to wilt under the bright sun of non-compliance that was Hohenheim Elric. "But… _she's_a homunculus… and… you…"

"A homunculus?" Hohenheim laughed fruitily. Lust chimed in with a weak giggle; if she could have sweated, she would currently have been washing her clothes with it. "Nonsense! They're nothing but alchemical drabble, just old-hat myths made up by a bunch of stuffy fools who'd been bunged up in too small a room with too many dangerous chemicals!"

"Your books!" Edward shook his head, wondering how on earth his father had managed to literally topple his rancor in mere seconds. Sure, his debate hadn't been particularly well researched -or researched at all, for that matter - but he'd usually have been up to starting a bit of a fray by now, or at least have had his elbow in someone's ear. He'd never been verbally winded so… _politely_before. "Your books had notes about them all over the place! You made references to them yourself!"

"Only as more of a theory to compare and resolve the differences between classical and modern alchemy!" Hohenheim chuckled and pushed his glasses up his nose. "The Hermetically created artificial human was just a fairy story that got a bit carried away. Certainly it gained some credit over time and somehow managed to attach itself to the myth of Human Transmutation, but it's all poppycock, Edward!"

"It's not!" One shaking steel finger thrust itself toward Lust while Edward hopped from one foot to the other in protest. "It isn't! You're lying! You know, you _know!__She_is one of them, and I've performed Human Transmutation! I tried to undo the damage you did to our family… and you're sitting here saying it's nothing but bullshit?_"_

"Well, all right, perhaps not _complete_poppycock, as I guess I can see from your arm," Hohenheim reasoned, motioning lightly to his son's Automail limb. "And perhaps one _can_create homunculi and raise them, nurturing them with chemically-created incomplete Philosopher's Stones and over time molding them into human shape, but really." He shrugged good-naturedly. "Who could be bothered with such a kefuffle?"

"So, now you're _admitting_you were lying?" Edward threw his arms in the air, tugging angrily at his blond mop with the full intent to tear it all off his head and strangle his father with it. "Which is it? They're real or they're not?"

"I think you ought to calm down, Edward."

"I think _you_oughtta sort your ideas out before _you__piss__someone__off!"_Ed hissed, clapping his hands to transmute his steel fist into a short, thick saber. "But hey, I'll _prove_to you that they're real! I'll kill Lust and you can watch her reincarnate. That ought to give you a bit of guts to your explanation. And to save your _own_guts from a tragic attack with a screwdriver, courtesy of yours truly, you can tell me _exactly_what it is you think you're doing here and how it was you came to know about this baby."

Something in his eyes twinkled nastily, and his grin pulled back over his teeth in a frighteningly predatory way. Lust - who had been slowly inching around the couch to put herself between the two Elrics and their youngest family member - shook her head, palms up as the boy began approaching her, his face twisted in a manic grin that rather matched his equally twisted proposal.

"Edward! Just because I can heal, that doesn't mean I want to die!"

"It's for the sake of science! You're proving a point!" Edward countered.

"Er… I left the kettle on," Lust gulped, suddenly aware that rationalizing with Edward wasn't really going to do much good, not when he was advancing on her - teeth bared, claws drawn - rather like a rabid golden retriever puppy. Backing up slowly toward the door, she spun on her heel and dashed into the hallway. "I'll be right… _back_!"

Edward yelped and scuttled after her, completely forgetting the reason for which he'd insisted upon performing the gruesome experiment. Up the hall, somewhere between the laundry and the kitchen, was the sound of someone or something crashing against a wall - possibly leaving a nice dent for Izumi to go spare about at a later date. Hohenheim watched them leave, modestly unperturbed, and scratched a little behind his ear before he turned back to the sleeping baby, smiling as he bent to pick her up.

"Well, look at you," he whispered, cradling her in the crook of his elbow while he studied the graces of her soft skin and sweet, round face. "You have your grandmother's face. Edward's colouring, but Trisha's face. Can't tell much now though, can we, little one? Let's hope there's some of _him_in you, though. Otherwise, he'll be awfully disappointed."

He held the bunny to her chest and let her unconsciously grapple at its woolly body, her miniature fingers digging in between the close purl of the knit.

"This is your very first toy by the looks of it, isn't it?" Hohenheim chuckled gently, watching her give a big, pink, toothless yawn before burbling a little, her clammy hands pulsing around her new possession. "Well, don't worry. I'm sure there'll be plenty to go with it once everyone's a little more comfortable. Just promise you won't lose this one. It's very special. Your mother might be able to figure out why."

_Meanwhile, back in the kitchen…_

"Edward! Stop it! I don't _want_ to die just to prove a point to your father!" Lust cried, fighting off the crazed alchemist with a dishtowel and a handful of long, obsidian fingernails. "He's got nothing to do with us! I've never met him before until the day I found you on the railroad tracks!"

"Look, he's an arsehole, Lust," Edward shot back, shielding himself with a frypan lid as the homunculus's claws came down again, hitting the metal with a most cacophonic _clanggg._

"Yes, and?"

"And arseholes need to be taken down a peg or six when they go and make up stupid _lies_that make no sense and just end up irritating the crap out of me!"

_Clangggg…_

"Edward, that doesn't mean you can just cut me up, willy-nilly! It _happens_to hurt, you know!"

_Clanggg…_

"Getting my licks on that bastard makes it worth it!"

_Clanggg…_

"I wouldn't have invited him in if I'd known it was going to end up like this!"

"Then why _did_you let him in! You know our policy on strangers! It only _proves_the point that you're working for him!"

"For the tenth bloody time, Edward!" Lust panted, dropping her prongs momentarily. "I'm _not_working for your father!"

"Are too!"

"I'm _not!_But there _is_something about him that doesmake me curious…"

"Oh yeah?" Ed narrowed his eyes, holding his guard, though he halted his attack. "Like how he turns up completely unannounced after more than ten years and _somehow_knows about the baby?"

"Turning up just _anywhere,_is more to the point!" Lust shook her head. "Didn't you hear me? I've met him before! I bumped into him in Dublith while I was trying to find _you._ He said he thought one of us would come from the east at one point. _One__of__us,_Edward! He knew what I was. He knew! And he'd only _looked_at me!"

Ed blinked, dropping his stance quickly. Hohenheim… He'd _known?_Well, of course he had, but… why had he been there, in Dublith? Why at such a coincidental time?

"I think he was there, at that manor. I think he was the one who interrupted Greed."

"Did you… Y'know… smell him?" Ed shifted the flopping strap of his tank top back onto his shoulder. "You guys can… sorta sense people that way, can't you."

"Yes and no. Humans mostly smell alike," Lust admitted, placing the dishtowel back on the door of the oven. "But that man… Edward, he doesn't _just_ smell like flesh and blood and clothing… He smells like- like alchemy. You know that bitter, metallic tang? Something like putting a coin in you mouth and sucking on it for a few moments? It's as though he's some sort of colloidal element bleeding it out into the atmosphere. He truly is nothing like any other human I _have_sensed before… Save one."

Lust looked down at her fingers. She knew exactly where the conversation was heading with _that_particular statement, and she knew that it was about time she really made the decision on just how she'd reply to Edward's response from it.

"Your master, right?" Ed said quietly. "The one controlling all of you. Lust… you know you have to tell me who that is-"

"I don't have to tell you anything, Edward!" Lust hissed. "I mean… Look. Maybe I want to, but even so, I have figure out just where my priorities lie. It's not easy! I'm not afraid to die, but what they might do to me… to any of you… I can't..." She sighed, raking a hand through her glossy curls. "What I'm doing is completely against everything I've ever done. I've never _protected_anyone before. Not like this. Can't you understand? It's like having a soul… I can't seem to stop it."

Edward nodded slowly, padding closer to the distraught homunculus, who was now wringing her hands worriedly in front of her, still unable to raise her eyes to look at him. He reached out, kindly patting her on the arm, his expression grave, but not unreasonable.

"But…" he continued. "Because of your help… Because you've… been… If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have found him in time…" He trailed off, swallowing hard. "Even if it was that person's orders… if you were only saving the baby because you were told to… I don't believe you could stand here and tell me that you're actually willing to go against them - 'cause that's what you're saying, aren't you?"

"I don't know. Perhaps," Lust muttered, miserably.

"Tell me," Ed pressed. "Sometime. Maybe not now, but soon. If you can assure me your master isn't going to be any immediate threat, then it doesn't matter right now; we still have Greed to worry about. But ultimately…"

"_Ultimately,"_Lust countered. "You have an infant daughter. Whether you're going to take care of her or not, whether you'll ask Izumi to adopt her, she's still yours. And whatever I tell you, Edward, is going to put that in jeopardy. Will your taste for revenge be satisfied if you know who has been raising us, or will my information only serve as an aperitif?"

"Lust…"

"You can be two types of a hero, Edward Elric:. One that saves the world, or one that saves _your_world. Which is more important to you now?"

Lust's dusky gaze caught Ed's and held it - set and serious. With a shiver and a light cough to clear his throat, Ed shook his head.

"Point taken," he said simply, turning his gaze out the window to contemplate the onset of deep, slate grey clouds that hovered about the sky to the west. It was highly possible a storm was brewing. Well, at least _that_ was somekind of anticipatory action. Edward knew he was being uncharacteristically level-headed (at least, _now_he was), but comparatively, Lust was acting as though she herself had undergone a radical personality transformation in the past few months. She certainly wasn't the same creature that had threatened his brother at nail-point in the drab, murkish depths of Laboratory Five; she'd been the one to ask for his aid initially; she had brought his attention to the situation and had _helped_him with it. He couldn't say he didn't owe her one, whether her intentions were governed by orders or not.

"So we both have something to think about," Lust went on, nodding slightly. "And we both have paths we have to decide upon. But if you _must_know, Greed had turned against us. He was a traitor to our master. If anything, they're going to want to destroy him, and that is undoubtedly to your benefit."

"Fine, fine," Edward grumbled, waving her off, dismissively. "All right. I'll think about it. But, you know, that baby isn't going to stop me from trying to restore Al's body."

"I don't think anything would." Lust smiled wanly, before paling. "Er… speaking of the baby... didn't we leave her with…?"

"Oh, _fuck_!"

Two sets of shoes, one stiletto-heeled, one rubber, squealed as both human and homunculus hurtled out of the kitchen, sprinting for the living room just as fast as they had left it and jamming shoulder to shoulder in the lounge doorway in their haste. But Hohenheim merely peered over the tops of his spectacles at them, his expression mildly serene. Edward's daughter was cradled expertly in his arms, fast asleep.

"She _is_dear, isn't she?" he said conversationally, as though they hadn't left the room at all. "They always are when they're this little. Does she have a name?"

"Baby." Ed shrugged, unhelpfully. "No, she doesn't. We haven't really thought about it yet."

"We?" The edges of Hohenheim's eyes crinkled like tissue paper as he grinned. "You and her mother? Where is the lady, anyway? Your sweetheart, I assume?"

"No," Edward retorted, turning beet red. "She is…was… _not_my sweetheart. The kid isn't even mine. We found her in Liore - she was… um… one of the military's accidents. Y-you know." He bit his lip. "Anyway, her mother told us to take the kid to someone who could look after her. Then she died. She was really sick. And that. A-and since we were passing through Dublith, I thought I'd ask my teacher. 'Cause she likes kids. Y'know."

Like father like son. Edward also seemed to possess the unique inability to tell even the whitest of lies.

"How kind," Hohenheim said gently, shuffling over to Edward to place the baby in his arms - his son jerking about like rusted clockwork to ensure that his grip on her was correct. "I'm glad that my son has such a strong respect for humanity and family, of course."

"Shut up, you crusty old turd," Ed replied sweetly. "You still haven't told me how it was you knew about her. No one in this household could have or would have blabbed, so either you've been stalking me, or you know more than you're letting on."

"Looks like it's going to rain soon," Hohenheim replied, craning over his shoulder to glance out at the brewing clouds. "I should get a move on. I really only came here to give the little one a present."

"W-what? But…" Edward stuttered. "Hey! You can't leave it at that! You can't just leave _now!_"

"Well, I would have liked to have seen Alphonse, but I really do have to go. No point in dallying. One doesn't wish to get caught in a thunderstorm!"

"You haven't told us anything, though!"

"I do believe it is forecast to hail, too, not a stunning predicament at all…"

"_Dad!_" Ed cried, exasperated, though his abrupt change in volume managed to wake the baby, and she wailed, frightened by the unexpected noise. Edward was already starting after his father, but stopped before the doorway, biting his lip as he nervously bounced the child a little in his arms. He really didn't like her crying; he wasn't used to dealing with it. Izumi was _best_at calming the fussy little girl, and unfortunately, she wasn't in. Ed and Lust had been the babysitters of the day. "Dad, you…_fuck_! You can't just go! You have to tell me how you knew to find us!

"Goodbye, Edward! Do take care!"

"If you could just find out like that, what if other people did too? How did you know about her? Dad! _Dad!_You _crummy_bastard!"

But Hohenheim had already rounded the corner with a cursory wave and was heading out the door. Lust shot Ed an apologetic look before thundering after the man, hitching her skirt up as she ran. She could have easily taken the baby and let Edward go, but then she wouldn't have had the chance to get her _own_questions answered, and that was most important. Ed had to lose out this time, especially with the chance he might find out things he was not meant to, things that might fuel his desire to set out after Dante instead of focusing on a new life with his daughter.

"Hey!" she cried as she cantered behind him, latching onto the sleeve of his traveling coat. "Hey, wait! There's something I want to ask you!"

"Hmm?" Hohenheim swiveled on the spot and gazed, if not a little blankly, down at Lust. "What is it, my dear? And quickly, please. I do want to get out of town before the rain sets in."

"You were there, weren't you?" Lust breathed, flicking a few stray tendrils of dark hair out of her face. "You were there when we were fighting Greed. You helped us."

His response was a slightly baffled twitch of the eyebrows, but Lust rambled on regardless, panting as her breath sprinted to catch up with her words.

"It was too difficult to sense you, what with all the mud and the alchemy burn, but… why else would you have been in town? It's too much of a coincidence. You _were_there… weren't you?"

Hohenheim pressed his lips into a slim line, studying her intently for a few soundless seconds before he asked, with a stranger's complaisance,

"Have I seen you somewhere before?"

Lust gaped, her pretty mouth falling open while her brain struggled to find a response that was fitting in place of such blasé absentmindedness.

"Yes. In Dublith, a few weeks ago. I bumped into you, thought you were your son. Remember?"

"Oh, goodness, did you?" Hohenheim chortled, combing back his unruly bangs with one hand. "I hope you didn't tell him that. Yes, I think I recall… You threw something at me."

"Not really." Lust bit her lip. "That was an accident. Your head kind of got in the way of my jar."

"I know, dear, it's all right. I don't think it knocked anything loose."

_Nothing__that__wasn't__loose__in__the__first__place_, Lust thought, acidly. She straightened, smoothing down her skirt and flicking a few pieces of imaginary fluff from it, before glancing up again.

"You never answered me."

"About what?"

"That _day_," Lust said through gritted teeth, "That day I ran into you. Afterward, you followed me to _her_house. You know who I mean. _Dante."_ She lowered her voice, glancing quickly back toward the house, keen ears picking up the sound of the baby fussing while Edward frantically tried to calm her. It seemed he wasn't _too_intent on following. That was fortunate. "You stopped Greed, didn't you? You're the one who caused that alchemic reaction. What happened to him afterward? Where did he go?"

There was another pause. Hohenheim appeared to be particularly fond of them, despite his excuse of being in a rush, so Lust waited it through, surveying his expression intently for any sign, any clue of an answer. He licked his lips and sucked a few breaths of air in through his teeth, making a noise that sounded like a trumpet plugged up with a wet sponge.

"You're talking about those homunculi things again, aren't you?" he replied, pushing his broad hands into his pockets. "Did you know that they don't start out like humans at all, but grow into their bodies over a period of careful tending?"

"Well, of course I do. I _am_one. You know that! You said-"

"Rather like a plant."

"Er… yes?" Lust closed one eye and squinted up into Hohenheim's face. Either he was standing directly in the path of the sun (which was odd, for hadn't it clouded over a minute ago?), or he'd somehow become immensely bright, for she was finding he was rather hard to look at all of a sudden.

"We use lots of plants in alchemy, for all sorts of things. For those who aren't as successful with basic transmutations, there is always the practice of botany, or even herbology, if you prefer."

"Uh-huh." Lust felt as though she was having the innards of a motorcar explained to her. Immediately, she began to nod her head affirmatively, listing points she thought might come in handy later, or might possibly be quizzed on.

"Of course, one of the more popular plants we cultivated was the _Artemisia__absinthium,_commonly known as wormwood. You may have heard of that one… They use it in Absinth"

"That green liquor that tastes like mouthwash?" Lust shaded her eyes with her hand.

"The very same. The plant itself is particularly useful for medicinal purposes. It can be used for all kinds of things, from pesticides to antiseptic lotions, but it's also quite popularly used as flavoring for that infamous rotgut. Of course, wormwood is also a highly potent hallucinogenic, so, teamed with an alcohol content that measures through the roof, and a particularly vile palette, it is really the best practice to consume it as quickly as you can and in large quantities."

"What… exactly are you trying to say here?" Lust shook her head slowly. "That all of the great alchemists of old - those who _birthed_the art and nurtured it until it became what we know today - were just… a bunch of drunkards, pissed of their faces on Absinth?"

"My dear." Hohenheim chuckled. "Have you ever seen a book on alchemical drawings? Do you really think that people would believe one could turn lead into gold, that a _human__being_could be bred from an egg, or a pile of _poo__-_if they weren't completely off their trolleys?"

"But alchemy _works!_I've seen Edward do it! Alphonse! A _number_of people! You can't just go around saying that it is a myth; there's too much evidence to prove you wrong!"

"Perhaps." The man shrugged. "But what is an array without the belief backing it? Does a pretty scribble of chalk in a symmetrical pattern really have the potential to alchemically transmute an object? Or is it the intent of the person _performing_the art that actually gives it the dynamism to _work_? You can draw a cat on a piece of paper and show it to a person who'd never seen one before, and they wouldn't know what it was. It would only become a cat once it had been named and explained as one. Of course, this might also be subjective of the artist's ability, but in truth, it you give something a name, you give it life. If you believe something will work, then it will. I believe someone at some point had been toying with the idea as a medical term: a_Placebo__Effect_, I believe."

"Oh, really?" Lust scowled. "Then how can you explain homunculi? Why doesn't Human Transmutation work? Why is it that only artificial humans come back in place of the person the alchemist meant to revive?"

"Well, it's not as though body alchemy _isn't_successful. You _do_receive something in exchange. However, I understand most people who have practiced the forbidden alchemy are often in a state of distress and cannot think clearly; they do not realize that there are some things that _cannot_be returned, no matter how hard one wishes it. You cannot retrieve a soul once it has gone. You can get a body as easy as you like, but once a soul has departed from this world, it is rather fiddly to get it back."

"Aha! But that's _not_true!" Lust shook a finger at the man. "Then how did _Alphonse's_soul return! How was it that Edward could retrieve it and affix it to suit of armor?"

"My youngest is a suit of armor?" Hohenheim blinked in surprise. "Well… that's a bit of bad luck isn't it? Though I suppose he'll be chuffed he never has to brush his teeth again."

"Yes.." Once again, the homunculus had to do a double take at the so-called genius alchemist Dante had prized above all others. Really, she was itching to back up a few steps, lest she catch some form of infectious senility from him. "But Edward _did_get his soul back, so that blows your theory out the water."

"Perhaps. But Alphonse wasn't dead, was he…?"

"I… no… No, I don't think so."

"Well then." Hohenheim smiled. "His soul couldn't have passed on. You can't be dead if you haven't _died._ The Gate would have just spat him back out like a sour grape."

"Then what of equivalent exchange?" Lust countered. "What of the rules, the regulations? What of the theory of _touka__koukan?"_

"Yes, well." Hohenheim shrugged. "The trouble with humans is, they're very good at making up rules for things."

"But-"

"And the Gate, as far as I know…" Hohenheim shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "…is quite fond of these people, because they really save it a bit of a job in the long run. Humans are actually quite successfully militaristic in method, are they not? There is always a top dog who will make the rules for all the others and coerces them into abiding - forcibly, if necessary. Of course, things get a bit messy when more than one 'alpha' crop up; but then, nothing is perfect, is it? That's what makes it interesting."

"You're telling me..." Lust said slowly, incredulously, "that _humans_are humanity's worst enemy...?"

"Possibly." The man pursed his lips, perusing the sky for a moment. "But one can die from a bee sting, just as one can from a bullet."

"Is there any way…" Lust exhaled forcibly in exasperation. "…in heaven, or hell, or any _goddamn_world in-between, that you are ever going to give me a straight answer?"

"My dear lady." Hohenheim coughed a little. "I really must be off. This coat isn't notably skilled at keeping the rain out - holes and all. Please do make sure the rabbit doesn't get washed. The wool will shrink and the poor thing might end up looking more like a rat, which we simply cannot have."

"But-"

"And to answer your query, what can I tell you that Edward couldn't? If I knew all the solutions to life's little mishaps, surely I would be doing something with them; rather than traveling from town to town on a wing and a prayer that I'll get food and accommodation in return for an amusing story or two."

"But Edward has things he wants to ask you. Surely…" Lust sighed, crossing her arms about her ribs. "Surely you could stay… Iron things out. You have to know by now that that baby is-"

"Adorable." Hohenheim cut in, nodding a little. "Absolutely adorable. She'll be a handful, I'm sure. Very typical of both her parents."

"You _do_know then!" Lust gaped. "You know she's Edward's! You knew all along!"

"Perhaps." Hohenheim turned a little as he walked away. "Only I sincerely doubt that I'll be of much use around the household. Better to clean out the mould, than let it in with the damp, as they say. Unsavory things tend to grow in conjunction, and we can't have that with a little baby in the house, can we? Just, please, don't put the rabbit through the wash -a light sponging will do if it gets dirty. And make sure he doesn't call her anything silly, he always had a penchant for less-favorable epithets."

"Who? Edward?"

Hohenheim smiled.

"No."

"B-but who else would…O-oh." Lust blinked. "T-then… You know about… _him_too?"

"It is a long way to be traveling from Lior to Dublith with a newborn infant - especially without any knowledge on how to care for one. And there are plenty of checkpoints along the way to ensure refugees from one country cannot bleed into another. I cannot believe the military would overlook a young man and a suit of armor traversing the countryside with a tiny baby. In any likelihood, they would be inclined to suspect smuggling, and hitherto she would have been secured for relocation with her own people."

"Hohenheim of Light." Lust cleared her throat a little, fixing her posture to look the least bit more respectful. The man may have been a tad annoying to speak with, but his oddness appeared to be more of an overspill of eccentricity than simply a few disconnected plugs in his mind. "I'd been under the impression that homunculi couldn't regain their humanity without the use of the Philosopher's Stone; yet Envy seems to have become human of his body's own accord. How? Was it because of the pregnancy? Because the baby had to survive in his body, it evolved to support it?"

"Envy's accumulation of a soul, I would estimate, is possibly the simple proof that phenomena of a higher level than that of alchemy exist on our world; perhaps as a relative consequence of Alchemist's application of the Great Art. Whether he acquired this integral constituent of his human self before or after he conceived, I cannot be sure; I can only tell you that the Gate is capable of as much. We are all aware that there must be two souls present to form a third, but while one might argue that his soul was birthed by the baby inside of him, before the fetus can even be_considered,_it is simply a cluster of cells, a mess of information and floundering gene structure that cannot possibly be a soul-possessing being. Or can it?"

"I don't know," Lust answered, reeling a little. "That's rather vague."

"Do you suppose that, if Envy had been aware that he was pregnant in the early stages, he would have had his body abort the intruder and thus retain his immortal nature?"

"But he wasn't. I mean… He didn't know until he was at least three or four weeks along." Lust licked her lips. "Do you think that was enough time for… his body to start changing? I mean… he'd said he'd tried to morph, to use his powers, but he couldn't. And then he started losing his stones… as though he was dying…"

"Then, quite possibly, we can assume that the first theory is correct. However, if he was able to use his powers until nearly a month later, then we must wonder where in Envy's body the child housed itself. If he had been able to change back, then surely he would have destroyed the zygote when he destroyed the womb."

"So, then… he would have needed to possess a soul to begin with to meld with Edward's to create the child. To keep all the… stuff inside and ensure that he wouldn't hurt the baby." Lust sucked on the side of her lower lip. "But how could that happen unless by some form of Immaculate Conception? It doesn't make sense!"

"It _is_something to ponder, isn't it?"

"You mean… you don't _know?_"

"Of course." Hohenheim grinned as he turned to leave. "I can't know _everything,_Lust of Ishbal. I'm only human, after all."

And with that final, ambiguous proclamation, Hohenheim Elric retreated once again from his human ties, swinging one arm up in a casual wave as he disappeared down the street, fading into unusual low mist that had settled over Dublith. Lust simply deflated, clutching at the fencepost and drawing in a deep, revitalizing breath (as revitalized as Lust could manage - she wasn't much of an expert) as she swayed a little, desperately trying to keep her wits about her while she turned the recent conversation over in her head. The feeling was like sticking one's hand down a toilet to unclog the s-bend: you know you're up to your elbow in shit, but pawing through the slimy remnants was an unfortunate necessity to ensure the cistern could flush properly once again, hence clearing the swill. And swill was exactly what Hohenheim had been talking.

The only problem was that it happened to be painfully _accurate_swill; it just needed to be sorted and shelved in the right places to make sense. Hohenheim had given her answers, or at least places to look, and by now she was almost positive of her assumption that he had been present the day she and the Elric brothers had saved Envy from a fate worse than Dante. A fate… or at least a force of unfortunate nature called "Greed" That man - that strange, foreign man, the one Dante had spoken of with a fanatical fondness. He knew more than he was letting on, and he made a point of subliminally advertising the fact he did. He was an observer, more aware of the world in a holistic sense than it was of him; one couldn't judge him by his participation in a single event. It was the culmination of a variety of happenings he'd been involved in that seemed to combine into one overall master plan. Even the visit today, the gift; it all had to mean something. Lust wasn't sure what yet, but she intended to heed Hohenheim's wishes and take care of the strange little bunny. She owed him that much. They all did. But _some_ _of__them__-_Lust glanced back into the house at Edward, smiling wanly as he eyed her from the door, a picture of distracted suspicion - didn't need to know about it.

_The__baby__I__understand,_ she thought to herself, picking idly at a splinter of wood on the gate. _Edward__and__Alphonse,__I__understand,__but__him?__Envy?__Where__does__he__fit__in?__It's__understandable__that__Hohenheim__knew__about__him;__he'd__mentioned__him,__after__all.__Perhaps__Hohenheim__had__known__Envy__at__some__time?__He__might__have__had__a__run__in__with__the__homunculus__and__managed__to__worm__away.__Envy's__agitated__by__his__presence;__that__much__is__certain.__Even__the__mention__of__his__name__gets__his__hackles__up._

Lust frowned as she recalled her brother's words in the Fifth Laboratory, his voice thin and strained by emotion she hadn't thought he'd possessed while he had "worked" Edward into submission:

"_I'll__never__forgive__you,__because__you__carry__that__bastard's__blood!"_

There was something else she didn't know. Something that was probably a lot bigger than Envy would disclose when he could control his temper enough to make insinuations toward it. Lust knew that Envy harbored his secrets and was as frugal with the truth as a defense lawyer, but she was fairly certain that, at some point, he would have to open up at least the smallest bit. If he was ever going to accept his humanity.

He was alive.

That was odd. That was wrong, actually; he was supposed to have died, expired from the serious trauma and injury he'd suffered at the hands of Greed. He was _supposed_ to have disappeared - no longer having the ability to regenerate, or theoretically, a soul to support his body in the waking world. He was no longer a homunculus; he'd puked the last of his stones and had spat the remainder of immortal self from his body in a most graphic and violent manner. So, it unsettled him a little to find himself not quite as dead as he thought he might have been, despite his earlier contrasting hopes that he might have pulled through. He hadn't thought he'd miraculously survive the whole birth ordeal.

He hadn't really counted on it.

Of course, he _could_be dead. This room - this hot, stuffy room with its still, patient darkness, its drawn curtains and its strong incense of sharp medical chemicals that screamed (quietly),_"Invalid's__residence"_ - could have easily been the stage of a medical soap opera set up in his mind. However, while he knew his imagination wasn't exactly towing the line of genius level, he was fairly sure he could have at least done a little better than what greeted his waking vision. The room in which he was… asleep, awake… whichever state of consciousness his body was currently residing in ... seemed a tad below par in terms of charismatic demeanor. In fact, it was, as he could recall with effortless certainty, the exact room in which he'd lain for what seemed an eternity while he recovered the debilitating illness that had plagued him throughout the first trimester of his pregnancy, and then _beyond_, as he'd grudgingly agreed to remaining at the house for the other four-odd months. It was Izumi's guest room, just her _sodding_guest room, for Pete's sake. Far from cheery and welcoming.

Envy found himself silently cursing the ten-dollar serviceman-blue sale paint the woman had slathered over the walls in hope that the colour might dry to a shade more tasteful. He scowled at the eyeballing knotholes in the wooden wardrobe door, further irked that he knew the exact amount scattered across it. Aside from the mismatched duvet covers and pillowcases - in which Izumi had insisted upon sentencing the uncomfortably lumpy, second-hand slat bed mattress to - the only colour he'd found in the room was in the test patches on the underside of the curtain. Eight dots, ranging from battleship grey to a rather passive tangerine that looked as though it had been exiled to the back of the fabric warehouse where all the dreadful, obsolete colours of twenty years ago went to die - Envy remembered them all quite intimately. And, as he found himself staring up at them, once again in a rather disassociated fashion, he was severely disappointed that his imagination hadn't bothered to work a _bit_harder to produce a surrounding of something slightly less newsprint-mundane.

He might have at least considered adding a little food to the mirage. Regardless of whether he was deceased or not, Envy couldn't imagine going anywhere - not even the afterlife - without a cookie or two, though he wasn't sure he'd exactly be up for eating, considering his guts hadn't given much of an indication they still existed, let alone put their hands up for a bit of nourishment to gurgle over. He felt… absent, lesser. Abbreviated. He felt that something very, very obvious was missing, and though nothing _hurt_at this point, it seemed that the something might have been a little more than just a freckle or a bump. No, it was something deeper than that, something he'd had to struggle to become accustomed to. It wasn't just a weight; it was a intimate communion, a synchronicity.

Envy shuddered, closing his eyes a moment against the nerve-tugging feeling that was almost like the rising hairs on a ghost limb. He was distracted in a worrying sort of way - and if there was anything Envy hated to do, it was to waste his time fretting. This useless human trait of becoming wound up in unconscious detail heralded an entire new tangent to his persona, and he wasn't particularly acclimatized to, or fond of it; if he was stressing, then generally that meant there was something he was stressing _about_, which subsequently provided the evidence that he might actually still be alive.

_Bugger._

Envy gave a soft groan and squeezed his eyes shut, as further proof of his tangibility assaulted his ears - in the form of a woman's voice on its best bedside-manner behavior.

"Hey there. Christopher said you were likely to come around today. How are you feeling?"

There was no way in hell (or perhaps _only_in hell, but Envy had rather hoped his redeeming conduct in recent months might have exchanged his one way ticket to a flight elsewhere) that Izumi would be in his version of limbo. Even if he _had_managed to side-step hell, no God could have been that cruel; could they? Envy winced again, frowning down to shut his eyes tighter as a hand landed softly on his knee. Ooh, this wasn't _fair_; it really wasn't.

"You've been out for a couple of weeks," she continued, still entertaining that uncanny, cotton-wool pleasant manner. "But don't worry. Dr. Warner said it was probably better for you to rest uninterrupted while you healed. You gave us a couple of scares, but you were fine after a few pints of fresh blood and some recuperation."

"I wasn't _supposed_to be fine," Envy muttered. "I wasn't supposed to heal. I was supposed to be _dead."_ His voice was stiff and weak, the tone of it having dried out after weeks of disuse and neglect. It hadn't helped that one of his operations had called for a tube to be shoved down his throat, and he felt sore and scratched because of it.

"I know you'd _figured_that." Izumi was itching to utilize the popular heckle, _"I__told__you__so!",_ but held her tongue for the sake of tact. Envy, a creature that hadn't actually lived as a mortal for more than four hundred years - prior to his pregnancy - was clearly distressed by the nameless miracle that had kept him alive through his difficult labor, brush with pneumonia, and the drain of serious internal hemorrhaging. Izumi was sure as spit that he'd be more than a little shocked to meet the product and culprit of his suffering - whom she had brought to visit - and she knew all to well her own exhaustive tendency to nag. "But some people are very glad that you aren't, you know…"

"Aren't what?" Envy snapped, crispily. "Dead? Decimated? Deceased? Stamped out? Obliterated? _Extinct?_ Or are you too _polite_to say?" He shook his head firmly, then spent another few seconds reeling against the pillow as dizziness assaulted him. All right, so moving wasn't the best idea. Neither was giving Izumi an excuse to go spare at him, for that matter, but he was beyond caring at this point. He was in pain, and scared, and he really didn't like it. Cornering a rabid wild beast might have been less dangerous - and certainly less loud.

"You know what I mean, Envy."

"Do I?" he countered, trying his best to come across as stubborn and unyielding. "Are you sure? I thought I was just a pain in the ass to you guys! I thought you'd jump at the chance to get rid of me!"

"And when, in all the time that you stayed with us, did we give any inclination that we might be considering such a thing?" Izumi sighed. "I know it's hard for you to trust us, but really, I _had_thought you were learning."

"Who is it then?" Envy didn't bite this time. In fact he seemed mildly interested. Which, in Envy-speak, meant he certainly was. "Who's glad I didn't die?"

"Well, everyone."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying." Patience. Patience was the key with this one, as brittle and rusted as the lock was. "We were all very worried about you; myself, Christopher, Shigu, Alphonse, Mrs. Rockbell and Winry-"

"Hn." Envy snorted, making the most of his guttural prompting by fiddling with the sheet over him, tugging down the soft, worn weave. His eyes still promised a form of long, slow annihilation, but they flicked back over Izumi's face, just daring her to say _his_name. It didn't make any difference that he _wanted_to hear it more than he'd wanted to hear from someone, or something, that he'd died. It was simply an inexplicable necessity that he had to. It was like the full stop on the end of a sentence; it had to be there. If it wasn't, then the piece wasn't complete and left the reader hanging.

"-Edward." Izumi smirked. It was amazing how quickly one name could just change a face. Just like that. She almost laughed. "And… oh, I don't know - perhaps this little one."

Kneeling down by the side of the sickbed, Izumi rocked inwards slightly, displaying a crooked armful of light, lemon yellow woolen blanket, plush, pearl scented baby powder, and the smallest, sweetest little human being Envy had ever seen. Of course, he'd seen babies before. He had killed plenty in his time. Woman and children, as well. Lovers, couples, families; it had been simpler back then, when humans had equated to nothing more than cattle to Envy. In hindsight, he almost felt as though he could justify himself and his horrific genocidal tendencies by arguing that when one is not equipped with a soul, one cannot possibly fathom the value of it, especially not something one cannot see or touch. He had known that he had been taking lives, snuffing out the mere smear of an imprint humans had made upon the world - not _their_ world either, not as they seemed to claim it was. There was never a reason for him to stop and think of the impact his actions had generated. He had been too busy riding the high of their fear, still buzzing from the opium that was a human heart fluttering within a ribcage, moments before it stopped. Emotions he couldn't understand had glossed over his blank senses, traveling on dead veins through a derelict heart. He'd had no idea. He hadn't cared. He'd thought that was fairly understandable.

However, with the solid injection of life that was now surging about his body, pulsing down and bursting the thick, numb dams of his guilt-free, unimpeachable blamelessness, Envy had the chance to feel things again - really, really feel them. Not to say he did or pretend he did, but to _have_them - as humans did.

Because that's what he was now, wasn't it?

Lust had been right: their old bodies did, to some degree, remember the pleasantries of the flesh. But the sensation was never as strong; there was no warmth in the chest, no heated cheeks when a beloved was nearby, no pinch in the throat that made the eyes water when sadness pressed, damp and heavy. The wet burn of a wound, the exhilaration of air against the back of the palate, the cold sweat of fear that trickled down the back of the spine - all these things had been robbed from the flesh that had died, leaving only inadequate thumbprints that were tainted heavily by alchemy, the taste altered forever to bitterness. Doubtless, the homunculi remembered reacting certain ways in certain situations, but feeling and experiencing were two very different things. Like biting into a rotten peach - the fruit looks as though it should taste as one remembers: buttery sweet, fresh and juicy, with a slight graze of prickly fuzz, but once the exterior had been breached…

Greed was the only one who'd really been able to remember with any substantial affirmative. And perhaps this proved that, once a person got used to the taste of hops in their beer, they would press on to inebriation - just as though the bitterness did not exist.

Yet, this smooth thing - this silky, tender thing - this tiny bundle of rosy flesh and warmth, perfectly miniature and opening up to the world like a flower bud to the sunshine ... Envy had known what the words "breathtaking" and "sublime" had meant - he could even spell them (albeit with a few moments of tense pencil gnawing) - but he hadn't been able to conceptualize how they were supposed to be used, and against what. The words were simply bland labels, empty adjectives like empty calories with neither weight nor substance behind them. They had the ability to describe _something,_Envy knew that, but without a noun to embody them, convey them, they were really quite useless. Words weren't real things, but she was. And as frightening as he found it - being able to _use_descriptions to explain that tight, intimate corset of emotion that was squeezing his ribs - he doubted she could have been described in any other way.

_(She was pink… so incredibly pink. Nothing was supposed to be this soft and small and pink, was it? She even smelled pink.)_

Envy looked down at his baby daughter with eyes that hadn't seen with love in more than four hundred years, and the sight of her brought the memories flooding back in smothering waves, his heart swelling almost painfully with the bafflingly strong attraction for the child. Jerking in retaliation, he squeaked, unable to seal the lid on the churning fear and unease that sat like cold wet towels in his chest, the earlier bravado shooting down like a lacquered lift. His ribs felt too tight; his nose prickled and his eyes watered. Despite the pain it caused him to move, he twisted away, grinding his teeth against the deep jabs of muscular ache and the stretch of cut flesh against medical cord. It was too much. He wasn't supposed to be feeling like this; he didn't_like_feeling like this.

"Take her away," he muttered, biting down hard on his thin, bleached knuckles until they pierced and bled. Izumi paused, confusion flickering over her features before she pushed insistently closer, touching the powdery skin of his arm.

"Come on, Envy," she coaxed. "Look, this is what you _did_- all on your own… er… theoretically. But she _is_yours… don't you even want to see?"

"No," came the flat reply, weak as a kitten with blunt, birth claws. "I don't."

"But she's missed you," Izumi pressed. She was pushing it, she knew. Her nerves, a little frazzled by the frequent, intermittent feedings of the newborn during the night, were not responding kindly to an extra drag of tension. Her short, peeling fingernails pressed into the flesh of her hand and she forced the corners of her mouth to stay apart as far as possible. The result was rather frightening, but it could have been worse. For if there was anything Izumi hated, it was the abnegation of a chance she would have given her right leg, and _had_given a number of her internal organs for. This was Envy's child, and she wasn't going to let him shrug her off so easily. He had to have been given a second chance for _some_reason. "She's wanted to see you."

"The only things _she's_wanted," Envy grumped. "Is a warm bed to sleep in and a tit to feed her. She's used enough of me." He winced over his words, unsure of whether he actually meant them or not. If he did, then did that mean he'd be punished? Obviously, it was the wrong thing to say. And if not…

_(You're scared of the if not… aren't you?)_

"Didn't even have the decency to kill me after."

Silence filtered over them like wisps of cold snow, and Envy could feel Izumi's gaze - probably hard as diamonds by now - chewing into the back of his head. There were no mirrors in the room to reveal the woman's bitterly disappointed expression, but Envy had become accustomed to her enough to recognize the strained quality of her voice that was surely pulling her lips like a drawer string into a tight purse - her eyes narrowing, lashes shading the hard chips of flint that regarded him. Steeling his will together into a tennis-ball sized lump, he gripped the sheets tighter, testing the clarity of his voice with a couple of coughs, before he spoke again.

"I said I didn't want her. Take her away. And you too: piss off. I don't want you here; I didn't even want to _be_here!"

Izumi's struggling sense of goodwill, already drowning in a hopeless sea of instinctive reprimand - the desire to "correct" Envy's selfish attitude - ignored the lifesaver of silence and headed straight for the nearest concrete block to lash to its ankles. She huffed irritably, the sound scuffing over her lips with a deliberate grate, and re-positioned her knees beneath her. She crouched down further on the rough, waffle weave coverlet. Cocking one dark eyebrow at her invalid houseguest, she eased forward, laying the sleepy little infant on Envy's chest, glued to Envy's reaction all the while. He jerked again, the closeness thoroughly upsetting him. His body suddenly became starched and stiff, solid as a two by four - his violet eyes illuminated and sharp by a mixture of fear and indignation, mouth opening and closing repeatedly and with all the grace of a landed guppy.

"G-get her…" he yowled, fingers patting the air over the child, as if her were trying to push her away by her aura alone. "…uuh!"

Barely touching the soft form on his chest, he whimpered a little, using his sparse accumulation of self control not to rest his hands over her protectively, stroke her tiny, thick back. He wasn't coping well at all, and as resolute as he was in his attempts to ostracize his firstborn, he couldn't quite manage linking his fingers to his vicious inner agenda in order to shove her away; couldn't quite yell at Izumi for being such a _rotten_ meddlesome bitch. The girl, the baby… God, she smelled like, she felt like… she was ambient, addictive. She was him - she smelled like him, she even _looked_ like him if he shaved his head bald and stuffed his cheeks with cotton wool. She _was_him; not just a baby. Him.

He bit his lip hard, nearly drawing blood (or what he had of it), as the infant wiggled on his stomach, feet kicking at the air while her fingers flicked time in imaginary beats. Her pert, bow lips pursed and she murmured a few poignant consonants in her own tongue, burbling up a little warm spit to lubricate her words. Strangely, Envy didn't feel repulsed by that; in fact, it was so basic, so ground-level it was _sweet._Usually people weren't that enchanted when someone spat at them.

Izumi surveyed the scene with quiet amusement - if not a little self-satisfaction - resting her chin on her hands as Envy floundered in hesitation, his breath coming faster, slant pupils that had, in recent months, plumped out quite gracefully, drawn to pinpoints while a light sweat hazed over his temples. She didn't quite understand the gravity of her act, yet she did realize that by forcing Envy to acknowledge his daughter, she was effectively holding a mirror in front of him, one of the ones batch shop-owners took sadistic pleasure in hanging in dressing rooms to reveal wrinkles and creases one never knew one had, along with a startling collection of wobbly bits one would rather forget about. The truth of the body was one thing, but even worse was the truth of the soul. Envy stared into the product of his self-inflicted irony, of the lives he'd taken effortlessly and enjoyably - shaking in the presence of one he had created and allowed to live.

"It doesn't have to be hard," Izumi offered, quietly. "You don't have to be alone. You don't have to do anything all alone. You already know I'll help you. Shigu and I, Christopher, the Rockbells-"

"Ed?" Envy cut in again. His voice had taken on a strained, squeaky quality that seemed as though it was passing over rubber-coated lips. He'd paled further, his dusty flesh having shifted the entirety of colour from beneath his translucent skin to the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, as though the particles were attracted by magnets. His fingers pulsed again, still refusing to touch the child, and his eyes were bright and sharp as cut glass. Izumi studied them a moment, trying to read the pools of reflected light within them as though they were the tea leaves to Envy's soul - the higher truth written through the body as so often happened with the human form. She was reminded of a series of mandalas Dante had shown her as a young pupil; of macrocosms and microcosms, universe and man.

As a homunculus, though he'd been renowned for his skill as an actor, Envy could never have been able to achieve the level of physical emotion that bridled his features at this moment. A thousand faces he may have stuffed under his belt back then: a million expressions, a mask for every occasion.

_Give a man a mask and he'll tell you the truth._

But never, not in his hundreds of years, could he ever have borne such a look of heart-pinching helplessness and fear - not of anything in particular, but fear of being, of comprehending. Izumi smiled gently.

"Edward, too," she breathed, her dark plaited locks swaying as she nodded. "You know, he was there. After she'd been born and you were resting in the operating theatre while the meds kicked in. He'd gotten the wrong message and thought you were dying. He rushed in, all frantic and hysterical and tried to talk to you. He was so upset… I don't know if you'd remember-"

"I do," Envy croaked weakly.

"He made quite a mess that day, tripping on the lead that connected the electrodes to the heart monitor. They all join into one plug, you see, and he knocked it out somehow. He went into a mad panic when he thought you'd gone into arrest. We tried to tell him that you'd be fine, but he wasn't listening."

"No." Envy almost rolled his eyes, remembering the blond's unnecessary hysteria, despite his own attempts reassure him that his life wasn't so much as hanging in the balance as it was put aside for later measuring. And he really would like to rest the anesthetic off, please…

"He wanted to wait to name the baby." Izumi chuckled, fondly. "He thought you'd have an idea of what you might like, so he waited. He wouldn't let us call her anything but generic nicknames: Baby, Bunny, Sweet-pea, Poppet - that kind of thing. He said you'd get mad if we tried to go over your head to give her a name." She laughed. "I didn't know you were so particular."

"Neither did I." Envy felt his nose growing warm. He sniffed a little, surreptitiously - disturbed at small wells of salty moisture that lapped at the corners of his eyes, all hot and wet and far too extraneous for his liking. "Maybe he just has no imagination."

"Or maybe he was hoping that waiting would show his respect for you," Izumi suggested, softly. "For what you did."

"Hn."

"Envy… you must have known, or at least been aware that we thought you'd kill the baby at first. Even after the… your miscarriage of the homunculus, we were… we _did_wonder up to a point. But you proved us wrong."

"Couldn't." Envy found himself reduced to single words, huffing a little for air in between. His daughter - dozing contentedly on his chest - had become so _heavy_in the mere few minutes she'd been using him as a mattress, the density of her slight weight crushing a soft place in the back of his soul and making it near-impossible to breathe. "Couldn't kill…"

"No, you couldn't, could you? You said there were reasons. You told Ed that the Gate wouldn't let you abort her. But, retrospectively, would you say it might have been more than that?" Izumi combed her front teeth over her lower lip, peeling away the thin layer of chap-stick she'd applied earlier. Envy shrugged - a curious gesture, considering he was lying down with a five pound baby on his chest, but he managed, regardless. He was praying that the woman would cease with the questions already. They were beginning to rattle his nerves.

Already he'd had to deal with waking up to find he was actually alive. Then came the shock that he was _alive_alive, and not the kind of alive that was sentient, but had expired - rather like old milk on the chiller shelf. Of course, the woman was quick to dig at the shards of shrapnel from _that_bombshell, chasing the bitter shot with something equally vile, the most powerful weapon in her entire, extensive arsenal: pure, unadulterated human guilt. Which, of course, he responded to now, being a human-type thing and all, and _God_did she enjoy laying it on thick. Izumi was powered by such acrid pathos, he could practically smell the empathy dripping for her, and that was probably the force responsible for making his eyes water as they were.

"dnno," he managed, sniffing again, and choking down a rather lonely mewl in the back of his throat. Great, on top of losing the ability to create sentences, he was fumbling the vowels. Wonderful. This was just getting better and better.

Izumi moved back a little, observing quite a different picture of the state in which Envy saw himself: pathetic, sniveling, an utter embarrassment. No, Izumi looked into the hushed, troubled expression of a young man scared out of his mind by the sheer audacity of the fact that he was now mortal, complete with heart and soul of which he was expected to use since he'd already shared part of it with his daughter, notwithstanding the manual to each had long since rotted into history. It was the expression a witless hayseed, who'd never set foot outside their farm and two-bit hicks-ville community, might consider if the universe and its vastness were explained to him in relevant terms. After the preliminary confusion came the horror that something could exist as more than a notion, but a physicality; that sort of space wasn't _possible._It couldn't be; he'd never find his cows. And yet it was. He'd never see it, save for the stars at night, which were now changed forever for him, but it _was._

The expression Envy bore was indefinitely comparable. He'd never see the soul inside him, but just like the universe, it was. And he couldn't return to what he was because of it. Izumi reached out, fingers slow and graceful, and touched Envy's arm, smoothing up and down a few times before she tucked it carefully around the child on his stomach.

"You should really be friends, you two," she said. "You have much more in common than just blood and genes and all those scientific things that Christopher or Edward might prattle on about."

Envy's answer was as glazed as his countenance. He didn't even seem to be able to work up even the slightest response at this point, and trying resulted in,

"…_ip."_

"You may be… God, I don't know how old," Izumi continued, her thoughts brushing softly over her audience. "Hundreds of years, I guess - four hundred, I think you said at one point. Well, as many centuries as you have seen, that soul inside you is as newborn as this one." A slow gesture at the sleeping baby and Izumi nodded. "If the world seems so different to you now, just remember she's also seeing it for the first time, as you are. As it is."

"…_mm."_

"And, don't you think it would be better to share it with her? After all, what you went through wasn't _her_fault. You shouldn't be considering adopting her out because she was the one who took your immortality away from you. Though I'd never want to force you into parenthood, I do think you should at least try it for awhile. Give her a chance."

"…_mm."_

"You gave us all a chance before; you can't be so contemptuous as to hold back on her part."

"…_mm."_

"And you're not crying, are you?"

"…_nnph."_

"Because there's nothing to be upset about, Envy," Izumi added, soothingly. "I told you we'd help you; we _want_to. You don't have to do this alone."

"…'_zumi?"_

"Yeah?"

"_Shaddup."_

It took Envy a few moments of unpalatable sniffing to compose himself; several more for him to sort out his alphabet and find the letters that had been hiding out somewhere in the back of his vocabulary. He wasn't crying, not really. His eyes were red and felt heavy and hot, his nose tight and pink; although he hadn't shed any actual tears, he was close. Moisture beaded in his eyelashes, threatening to spill and he blinked rapidly, trying to persuade it back into his body so as to lubricate his mouth a little.

Stupid…stupid emotional woman! Damnit, he used to be good at laughing at people like this, the peacekeepertype, the reasoning ones. Hell, these were the kind of people who seemed to think he actually _gave__a__damn_ as he ticked the delicate bones on the insides of their ears with hooks of copper cable; they actually thought they could talk him out of killing them! Envy had taken the greatest enjoyment in matching their pleading expressions with one of sheer, utter joy and maniacal pleasure - the kind of look that sent hopes plummeting, caused waterworks in numerous body parts, opened bowels. The smell of feces didn't even bother Envy if he knew that someone was shitting themselves because of him; it all came as part and parcel with the disgust for humanity package.

However, now someone would have been crapping themselves in front of him for very different reasons altogether, and while he wasn't exactly considering the fact at this point, he _was_

mulling over Izumi's proposition, buying time for his lungs to catch up with his breath and the feeling to return to his fingers. Izumi had said he didn't have to do this alone, that there were plenty of people here to help him… or, perhaps, take _over_ when he got tired of the little thing. Envy frowned a little as he shifted against the pillows and Izumi's hopeful gaze. Izumi, the _surrogate__…_ yes. That sounded like a much better plan, and it was what she'd wanted anyway - wasn't it?

He'd let this humanness run its course; suffer for a few months while the last of the ridiculous hormones left over from his pregnancy shat on his system, then he'd leave, go find sanctuary somewhere where he could cause a little trouble, or at least start looking for Hohenheim again, and that was definitely a crusade worth regurgitating. The kid would be fine here. Izumi had always wanted one, so what was the problem? Ed would get over it; he'd be satisfied with the fact Envy wasn't going to try and kill anyone or assault him with all his… weird notions.

And if Dante came a-knocking? Well, it would be no business of his anymore. Ed would, no doubt, be able to fight her off, especially if his soppy sister Lust decided to gatecrash the family. He wouldn't have to worry; he'd have nothing to do with it. He wasn't hers, and he wasn't theirs. It was that simple.

"Th-this…" Envy said in a brittle voice, his index finger tapping the child's arm. "This… is mine. It's mine. And since it's my possession, I'll treat it how I want."

"Envy." Izumi frowned. "That's not really what I meant-"

"You _said_," he cut in, "that she's mine. You said I should at least try to look after her a little bit; well fine. I'll give it a test-run."

"I was hoping you might agree to a little more than that."

"I'm not cleaning up shit," Envy said, firmly. "I'm not going to wear puke on my shoulder. I'm not going to go around smelling like disinfectant and a nursery sick basin. I'm not feeding her and I'm not gonna put up with crying. I don't have to do that, you said."

"Well." Izumi sighed and rubbed her temples. Frankly, she should have known better. Envy was fickle enough that - once he was out of immediate danger - he'd turn on his promises and lie on the other side of them without seemingly a care in the world. Perhaps it was typical of him that he didn't want his hands near the dirty work, and she couldn't say he _didn't_deserve a break after such a traumatic labor. He _sounded_as though he was considering the possibility of abandoning her, which of course, Izumi couldn't and wouldn't advocate. Yet, with his sullen tone and unresponsive, sulky body language, she had the inkling that he really wasn't one hundred percent behind his words. There was such hesitation present, which fundamentally led her to believe he might have been trying to convince himself he didn't care as part of his own defense mechanism. The way he'd reacted to the little girl, the way he'd inquired about Edward - just like the night before he went missing… There was more to it than he'd let on. Especially to himself.

"No… no that's all right. I guess you have had enough of the work so far, haven't you?"

"Damn straight," Envy muttered, shifting a little again, causing the baby on his chest to omit a croaky mewl, punting the air with her pudgy toes. Unconsciously, his arm slid around her a little more, his hand supporting her side. The other arm, the one punctured by a thin, snaking intravenous drip, finally rested - after minutes of fluttering - on the child's chubby thigh.

"But… you'll stay for now?" Izumi straightened, a few strained muscles in her back popping dully. "I mean, it's not as though you'll be going anywhere for awhile; you have a lot of resting you need to do. But don't go and make your decision on a whim."

"I'll do what I want," came the standard, gruff response - weak, but with the patent stubbornness Envy had employed for the past nine-something months Izumi had known him, and probably longer. She huffed, dusting the knees of her black trousers as she eased up to her feet. She was disappointed, and to be honest, she'd expected a little better from him. But, in truth, Envy wasn't in the position to be slandered for having sluggish acclimatization; she'd be wrong to force things on him too quickly, and she didn't want the experience of his newfound humanity and parenthood to sour without him putting a little effort into it.

So, once again, Izumi Curtis found a smile blanketing her scowl of displease, her fingers jabbing into the pockets of her pants, hidden from view as they pressed into tight fists. She could do this. It was hard slog, draining in both physical and emotional ways, but she could do it. There was something to be said for someone who had gone through as many pains as Envy had throughout his pregnancy, and generally, it was something quite empathic. He'd earned her patience this time.

"All right," Izumi agreed, trying to remain as nonchalant as she possibly could. "I understand. I guess we'll all need time to get used to this, yourself especially. I won't let anyone rush you."

"They'd better not," Envy replied, sounding strangely hollow.

"However, are you okay holding her for a few minutes?" The woman took a tentative step backward, toward the door. "I have to make some formula up; she's due for her afternoon meal."

"Whatever. Don't be long."

It was a risk, leaving a newborn baby with someone as unskilled around children as Envy was, but Izumi trusted her gut that he would probably be fine for the few moments it took to heat the water and measure and mix the powder. In fact, the experience would probably do him some good, having time alone to interact without feeling as though he was judged by the other household members might just strengthen the bond a little between the child and her mother. Izumi knew for a fact that Envy didn't like to be watched in these insecure instances of developing character, but if the only witness to his blind grope through the world was a little baby as emotionally callow he, then surely there was little for him to feel embarrassed about. After all, the baby had to rely on everyone else to get her what she wanted - including wiping her own bottom. Envy could at least order someone to help him to the smallest room.

Once Izumi had left, however, Envy glanced down at the baby in his arms and swallowed hard, his expression stiffening. That strange, electric butterfly feeling that fizzed each of his fingers and made his mouth feel still as dry as a wafer refused to leave him, as did those feelings… those stupid feelings that had arisen before. Instinct, he supposed he should have called them. They pissed him off. In the old days, his only true recurring concern had been to kill as many humans as possible - wipe them off the face of the planet, out of every corner, nook and cranny. Humans were lurkers; humans were gutter-trash. Humans weren't _worth_ it; _ever_.

But now his body betrayed him, and clung with desperate nails into his mind as though to pull it down the same path. His daughter was beautiful; he knew that; she was the most perfect thing he'd ever seen. But if he acknowledged such an observation, if he submitted to these absurdly human feelings (which of course weren't as nonsensical as he would have liked, considering he _was_human), then… then that was really the final straw. Where would he go from there? Picket-white banality in small town nothing? Suffering everyday conversations with people he couldn't care less about, all the while resenting the knowledge that at one time he would have slit the throat of the checkout assistant packing his groceries cheerfully into a robust paper bag simply for boring him to tears? He couldn't kill now; he could try, but it wasn't the same. Humans were hindered by guilt and responsibility, perceptions that, while seemingly of such flimsy, cereal box architecture, could manage to stay the hand of even the most notorious bottom-feeders of the human race. Understandably, these psychopathic shit-smears could turn _off_said limitations, but they tended to be a little lacking in other areas; Envy knew for a fact the Non-Partisan Alchemist (of whom Dante had jokingly dubbed "Nonpareil" alchemist, and wouldn't stop: "_Envy?__Could__you__fetch__Zolf__Kimbley,__please?__I__need__to__decorate__the__icing__on__my__cake"_) liked to save his toenail clippings in empty 2oz honey jars, while Barry the Chopper picked his nose and wanked off to the stripped beast corpses hanging in his butchery chiller.

As facile as Envy liked to believe he was, he knew by now that killing people would be out of the question, at least until he got his strength back. Until then, he had good old fashioned manipulation, sexual coercion, and stuff of the like to play with. He wasn't able to pour his mercurial form into different guises anymore, but he believed that, after he gained a few pounds and had a couple of hundred showers, he might be able to pull off sexy again. And, if all else failed, he could always walk away; after all, he had no one to answer to anymore. He certainly wasn't interested in returning to Dante, and Edward…

Envy stalled in his thoughts, finding the engine bunny-hopping on that particular begilded name.

_Ed-e-e-edwa-edwar-ed-ed-ed-edwaaaaaaaard…_

There, he had problem one. Beautiful, beautiful Edward. Edward, who had taken him in, then pushed him away when he got too close. Edward, who had fled from his needy solicitations, only to return as abruptly as he had gone, begging him not to leave - if anything, for the sake of the baby. Oh, yes, Envy really didn't know what to think of Edward, currently. And he wasn't sure he wanted to chew on it either, not with problem number two curled up on his belly, making alien little glubby noises and blowing bubbles of her own spit.

"You're going to hate me," he said quietly, patting the top of her clammy, downy head as one would a friend's or neighbor's child. "You're to blame for a lot of things, but you're eventually going to hate me. Maybe someday, someone will tell just how _much_your m-muh…parent had to sacrifice to bring you into the world, but you'll still hate me. I guess that's all I can really give you - proof that the world isn't fair, no matter what you do."

He paused, wondering briefly if that was a similar monologue as Hohenheim might have concocted preceding his cruel abandonment of his resurrected son, before he stamped the notion away, furiously. Hohenheim hadn't cared, and he had more the reason to! As much as he hated the man - hated anything to do with him - Envy clung to the evidence that his father had managed to worm his way out of parenthood and used it as part of his own inner justification. He didn't want to be responsible for a reprise of Hohenhiem's actions, but he felt as though he really didn't have much of a choice; the responsibility was suffocating. So why should he suffer, given the fact that none of this was planned? Why should he be pushed to care about the brat when he'd done what was expected of him? He wouldn't be trapped; that was final.

They weren't going to get him again.

Eight days later, Envy sat in the lounge, idly flipping through a culinary magazine Izumi had purchased for him - an olive branch to the heathen - every once and awhile throwing hateful glares at the pair of crutches resting solemnly against the arm of the couch. As necessary as they were, Envy hated being reminded that he was anything less than perfect, and at his last checkup, when Warner had suggested he take things slowly and easy in the case of his mobility, offering the services of one of the clinics ancient wheelchairs, he had very nearly torn the place apart in acrimonious humiliation. He was _not_some pitiful cripple who required the aid of four melodiously creaking wheels to get him around! He did _not_piss into a bag or need protective underwear! Even suggesting such a thing was an outrage - a fallacy! How dare they?

It was only when Warner patiently informed him that his fractured pelvis was taking much longer than he'd expected to heal, and it would be best for him reduce the risk of jarring it, lest the tissue surrounding the bone become painfully inflamed - thereby slowing the process down altogether - that Envy dropped the subject. And though he had provided crutches instead, on the grounds that Envy must take things slowly and carefully, the ex-Sin remained unsatiated, swinging woefully through the house like a chimpanzee without a tree.

He tired too easily, his strength petering out almost at once after he descended the stairs; granted, that took almost ten minutes, but Envy defiantly snubbed any offers for assistance. His hips were one swollen, continually aching lump, and throbbed no matter what position he was in. Unfortunately, the only deviants to his constant discomfort were when the pain arched and the twinge became an almost unbearable gnaw inside the thin skin on his pelvis; in those instances, he would hurl things at the wall until Izumi rushed in with a shot full of blissfully potent painkillers which quickly helped him forget the pain, and sometime the fact he even had legs to begin with.

Currently, the ache wasn't so bad, but Envy was both chagrined and irritated with his handicap. He didn't _like_being weak; he didn't like being pitied. He _certainly_ didn't like the look Winry kept giving him when he stiffly swung out of a crowded lounge to be alone somewhere away from otherlooks that matched hers - suet-like, sympathetic and altogether sickening. He detested that kind of gooey rapport; it made him all to aware of how different he'd become, and he wasn't even going to _think_about that.

The only person he didn't silently chastise for philanthropic gazing as though it was open season on soupy, benevolent looks, was Edward. As annoyed as he was that he had let himself fall into the trap of his human emotions and had _kissed_the boy - thinking that in doing so would change his life and consequently, the world for the better - Envy shied away from him. Unconsciously, in some part out on the back doorstep of his mind where his human senses where trying to sprout in low, hard soil, Envy was hurt. In some other place, possibly among a patch of nodding pansies, he was afraid. Shutting the garden gate wasn't doing much to help anymore, as he'd let the sun in too much during his pregnancy, and the seedlings: Reverie, Benignancy, Love, Jubilance and the like, were spreading like wildfire over the ground, despite the infertile nature of it. Hacking at them with a machete wasn't going to help; all the weed killer in the world probably wouldn't stop them once they'd dug their roots in. The best play, Envy had considered, was to throw in the trump card and move house, and it was at this point - while he thumbed boredly through a glossy article on party nibbles, musing the possibilities of renting in Drachma (where he doubted anyone would try looking for him since _all__those__thar__fo-ree-nors__speak__all__funneh-lahk)_ - that Edward clumped in the doorway, looking as though he wasn't particularly relishing the prospect of a conversation with Envy. The little yellow bunny was nestled in his hand and he squeezed its head fiercely, drawing some self-satisfaction from the momentary fancy that it was his father's and not that of a yarn rodent, as little difference as he'd decided there _was_between his father and a rodent.

"Hey," he began, trying to find a happy medium between interested, disinterested, and irritated, which he'd had a hunch would doubtless win the battle for attitude of the day. "You got a moment?"

"No," Envy replied stonily, running his index finger down a sugary-looking page with a rubbery squeak.

Al had pressured him into this, nudging him into a situational conversation with Envy like a mother does their snot-nosed five year-old starting school into the classroom. Although the metal boy had actually left with Shigu to run errands, Ed swore he could feel the spike of Al's elbow poking in between his shoulder blades, under a rib. As gentle as his steel-encased brother had learned to be, it seemed in certain instances he would inadvertently forget he was as spiky as a sea urchin; Edward's arms boasted scars and dents from Al's occasional lapses and playful nudging. Tickling the pale line of a particularly deep gash on his tanned upper arm with absent nails, Ed cleared his throat and tried again.

"Can you watch the baby a second?"

"Didn't I just say no?" Envy's face was hiding behind the thicket of his hair, his white fingers stabbing at the poor, defenseless page before him. "I'm busy."

Edward rolled up to the balls of his feet and cocked a treacle-coloured brow.

"You're busy? Reading cookbooks?"

"Yes."

"Since when are we going to have a dinner party for ten people with gazpacho and rice krispie and smoked salmon _hors-d'oeuvres_ ?"

Envy glanced up, eyes narrowing with the look of a cat being cornered by a lynch mob of mice.

"None of your fucking business, short shit-for-brains. Go ask the woman; she's outside."

"She's gardening; she's up to her elbows in marigolds and fertilizer at the moment. Besides, she asked me to ask you." That was a lie, but Edward didn't care. "It's only for a moment," he added, hoping that the ex-Sin would continue to refuse with the utmost tenacity, possibly lob something at him, giving him grounds to return to Izumi and get her to put the baby to bed. He couldn't blame Envy; he wasn't that keen on his fatherly duties, either. Sure, she was an adorable kid, but what if he dropped her? What if she started crying and he couldn't get her to stop? He didn't appear to possess the inner manual that his teacher, Winry and Pinako seemed to metaphorically pull out at every instance concerning the baby, the baby's environment, the baby's food, sleep patterns, breathing space, _et__cetera._ Edward figured this was something to do with the levels of estrogen rushing through the female bits he thankfully wasn't equipped with. Though he did recall his late Lieutenant blathering on a fair amount about the necessities an infant required on a daily basis, Edward figured that he must have picked it up from his wife. Men, around young children, were like sponges: they either sucked up vital information by the voracious bucket load, or they sat about, wetly, taking up space and getting in the way.

Envy, however, was neither of those. In fact, he seemed almost adamant to stay out of the spotlight and attention, glumly hibernating in his room. The southerner in Edward glanced over the chalky quality of his skin and silently urged him to seek out some sunlight.

"So? What's that got to do with me? You have hands."

"I was going to check the letterbox."

"And that takes ten minutes?" Envy huffed. "Lust is on the front lawn. Ask her."

"I was going to check the letterbox _with_Lust," Edward stated, tiredly. If he couldn't make his obviousness _more_obvious, then he couldn't really be expected to continue on this fruitless mission. Envy didn't seem remotely interested in his daughter. So, what was new? "For God's sake, Envy, it'll only be a few seconds."

"A few seconds I can spend doing something else." Envy's glare darkened and he snapped the recipe book shut with a snap. "Don't bug me, short-ass. I'm not in the mood."

The final straw was a short and dirty one - more a twig at best - but Edward took it, scowling in retaliation. He didn't like the idea of forcing Envy into anything - getting a rooster to lay an egg might have been easier (though not as impossible as he had once postulated) - and as humorously ironic as his analogies were, Edward found himself riling his sulfurous temper, striding over to the seething ex-Sin.

"That "something else" isn't going to be a hell of a lot, Envy. Do you have to be so fucking selfish?"

"Shut the hell up, Elric," Envy growled, steeling himself against the couch cushions as though anticipating Edward grabbing at him and tearing him away. It wasn't often he turned down a fight with his midget sibling, but Envy was sore and tired, and their verbal brawling would only eventuate in him becoming sorer and even more exhausted and he _would_like to be able to climb the stairs back to bed this afternoon, please. "I don't fucking want to. You can't make me, and if you even _try__…_"

"Oh, oh, what's that?" Ed smirked, pointing a finger rudely in Envy's glowering face. "Is that your big, bad homunculus death glare? Do I get to shit my pants now?"

"From what I understand, you've been doing that since age three upon _request_."

"You got a money back guarantee on that?" Edward continued snidely, placing his hands on his hips. "Must be pretty handy, being a walking laxative. People don't like taking pills half the time, and you won't go off for at least fifty years or so. If I buy one now, do I get a free knife set?"

"You get a free knife in the eyeball," Envy simmered testily, latching onto the game, hooks, barbs and even a sinker. "But wait, there's more…"

"There is?"

"Yeah, if you don't shut your ugly pie hole, I'm going to shut it for you. With the couch."

"Envy." Ed sighed. "All she needs is five minutes of your time. It's no great sacrifice."

"What's the difference if no one is with her at the moment? She can wait until you're not busy!" the other hissed acidly, scraping his hair away from his pale, peaked face.

"Izumi said she needed to be put to bed for a nap. She's lying on the couch, but she won't sleep there," Ed explained, trudging closer, his toes flopping against the rough carpet. He tossed the little bunny down in Envy's lap and shrugged apathetically at Envy's look of cross bewilderment. "Apparently it's her favorite. I couldn't say why. It's just some crap Dad dropped off a few weeks ago."

Despite the warmth of the late summer air that clogged the house like a stuffy nose, the temperature in the room plummeted, Envy's sallow complexion breaking into a light sweat as it paled impossibly further, giving the snowy tablecloth a run for its money.

"D-dad? Your dad?" he stuttered, slowly picking up the warm object that lay in his lap.

"Yeah." Ed sniffed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I don't know how he knew where we were or could have possibly found out about the baby, but he turned up out of the blue and was gone as quickly as he came." The look of displease on Ed's face, the way he spat out the words regarding his father as though the taste of them was indeed that foul, was a good look for the boy, and Envy might have commented on how much it suited him, had he not been struck dumb by the harmless little toy in his hands. "Couldn't say if he was trying to barge in and make a point that he was her grandfather. As much as I'd have liked to disavow him, but by the way he pissed off as soon as people started asking questions? Yeah, I wasn't surprised."

Edward couldn't understand why Envy seemed so perturbed, if not distressed, by the bunny, but he watched with increasing consternation as the other turned it about in his fingertips, squeezing it a little; nearly jumping through the roof at the strange crackling noise the stuffing surrendered.

"It's probably just some cheap shit he picked up at a flea market, you know," he continued, thoughtfully. "I would have gotten rid of it, but… I guess the kid _does_deserve to know that, at one point, her grandfather actually thought enough of her to bring her a gift. We were going to wash it, but Lust said we shouldn't; it seems to be stuffed with newspaper or something, and the water would probably ruin it."

"Newspaper?" Envy parroted weakly, picking at the loose tacking threads that joined the bunny's head to its body. As one sunny loop began to free itself from the chain mail of the knit (further substantiating Edward's claim that the article was cheaply constructed), Envy poked a finger in the widening hole, burrowing into the stuffing - of which appeared to be a mixture of paper and cotton, not simply old newsprint, as Ed had guessed. Ignoring the other's sharp intake of breath, _hey!__I__said__give__it__to__her,__don't_wreck _it!_, he fished deeper into the woolly depths of the bunny's stomach, his fingers scraping past what seemed like a thick fold of parchment - slightly greasy, yet coarse in grade. He tweezered it out eagerly, dragging a few more stitches in order to birth the strange object from the poor animal's torso.

What happened next, Edward was neither able explain, nor comprehend, but he swore he could feel the chilly threads that entangled the nerves about the base of his spine for weeks afterward, and the haunted, panic-stricken expression that crossed Envy's face would bother him for even longer.

Already, the ex-Sin was shaking with visible dolor as he plucked a small, neatly folded square of what seemed to be scrap paper of curiously crude quality - but as he turned it over in his hands a few times, nudging at the bent, tea-stain tawny corners of the object, it finally unfolded, revealing something of a fragment of a peculiar style of Western art that many Xingian merchants in Central had tried to fob off as expensive collectables.

The most popular was some variable species of bird: sparrows, pigeons, swans, that kind of thing, and this one, probably the most famous. He recognized it simply because he'd seen it _everywhere_in downtown Central around the usual hot-pot and noodle areas. It was a rather skillful rendition of the paper crane.

The alchemist was about to open his mouth to question the appearance of such an object in the back of a child's plaything (perhaps it was just typical of Xingian-made over-embellishing, and the little piece of origami might've been a price-tag Hohenheim had forgotten to remove, or a luck-charm or something), but was unexpectedly cut off when something of a high-pitched, strangled cry left the throat of the boy before him, the mewl echoing off the plain walls of the room.

"Envy?" he squeaked as he cautiously folded over a little to address the sin, and almost leaped back in surprise at the look of utter horror that contorted Envy's features, his mouth twisting into a serpentine grimace of grief-stricken shock, eyes already pooling with heavy tears. Clammy fingers clutching the handicraft trembled visibly for a few moments before closing lightly over the top of it. A long, lonely tear led a solitary procession down the curve of Envy's cheekbone as the boy lifted his head, his drooping, shaggy bangs sliding backwards to reveal an expression of such pure, tortured anguish it caused Ed's muscles in his wrists and knees to slacken into a decomposed mess of jelly and twitching, buzzing raw nerves. There were few looks he'd come across in his life that had been quite as physically arresting, quite as startling to each and every one of his senses. He could almost smell the terror (if that was what it was) radiating from the ex-Sin. However, he never thought Envy would actually launch to his feet and scramble out of the room, leaving behind only a faint choked sob as he ran on legs that would barely support him.

Knocked for six by the blow of such a reaction, Ed didn't turn around. He didn't follow; he merely crouched lower, picking up the poor mangled bunny, twiddling the loose threads with his fingers - far to shaken to be able to compute Envy's distress, nor conceive a counterbalance toward it. Instead, he hunkered down on his haunches, clapping his hands, numbly, needing a few seconds, or at least surmising that Envy probably did. If he couldn't fix her mother's mysterious and sudden trauma immediately, he could at least fix his child's favourite toy.

The blue light flared for a breath, then siphoned off into the pressing heat of the room.

Hips screaming at him, his weak, injured pelvis howling obscenities to his healing body, Envy crashed up the stairs. He slipped and skidded on the polished wood, fingers clawing at the balustrades desperately, wrenching him up, panting, onto the landing. It was likely, from the wet feeling blistering in his lower back, he'd be stuck in bed for days because of this little stunt, but he didn't care. Choking on dry sobs, he navigated blindly toward his room, ending up in the nursery instead, as ironic as that was.

Immediately, he wrestled with the heady scent of baby powder, plush angora, and the baby's own dewy haze, and he wheezed in the throes of overpowering emotional arrest, pawing faintly at the front of his shirt. It was there that he collapsed in the middle of the floor, teeth grudgingly holding back a moan centuries old. The grief that had struck him the day his father turned the other way and left him, the tattoo of his heavy soled footsteps resounding off the wooden floor of Envy's rebirth, was never to return again, save in his angry dreams.

Though his baby daughter cooed hopefully at his entrance, her waving arms greeting him from the couch - she couldn't see him, but she knew another presence was in the room, and she reacted immediately for attention - Envy did not seem to notice her. His mind was drifting backwards through time, past his homunculus years, past the time of hurt, of sickness, back to the story in the bedroom one cold, strange evening when his father, brilliant, yet as untouchable as a dream, gave him hope for the first time in his tortured life.

_Father... did the Empress make the all of the cranes? Did she get better and live happily ever after?_

After Hohenheim had shooed the boy from his room in order to continue his reading, Envy's predecessor had disassembled and reassembled the crane his father had folded countless times until he'd gotten the hang of it. First practicing with one of his mother's cleaning rags, he had perfected his technique within days - his want to become like the brave Empress, her tired fingers constructing hundreds of pretty white sculptures that he imagined sitting about her room in silent, linear grace, in order to conquer her illness. Finding scraps of parchment about his father's study, sometimes ripping pages out of books he guiltily predetermined were unused and obsolete, the little boy began his undertaking of the long, tedious task of creating more objects than he could count easily, and more than his poor, sick body might have time for.

Many a long, uncomfortable night had transgressed - often bleeding into day - as winter had raged over the thatching of the cottage, the child had worked, sometimes until his fingers bled from paper cuts and his fluid-swollen joints seized and ached, forcibly preventing him to press another crease. He might have easily given up at any time - especially when the pain had become so bad he could barely see through his hot, puffy eyes that drooled tears like a constantly leaking tap, but his perseverance and determination would not let him resign.

Hohenheim had found him in his bed one morning - cold, but peaceful, his golden hair splayed about him like the halo of autumn leaves. In his hand was the last paper crane the boy had been able to make. The rest were hidden about the room, some piling up under the bed. Upon counting them, slowly, methodically - just as Hohenheim had always worked - the man found that in total, the birds added up to just over the target figure: One thousand, one hundred and forty nine. Envy had not known it, and never would, but it had been then that his father had plucked the last flimsy crane from the clammy young hand and had slid it into his pocket, before he gathered his dead son in his arms and cried as long and as hard as his heart would let him.

Envy's first death had been a milestone that had deeply scarred his father. Though he had found love in the comfort of Trisha Elric's embrace - his devotion to her so great, he surrendered his family title for hers and wore the remains as a simple Christian name - the loss of his firstborn son, the disappointment that was his unsuccessful resurrection, had whittled away the last of the humanity the golden man had left. He had loved, but briefly - like a passing season, he would soon be gone, lost under snow, escaping from the woods like a leaf caught on the flow of a fast river. Trisha had been his strength for awhile, reminding him of the things he had once loved; the developing civilization in Central City gave him insight to the country's political mechanics and the growing interest in his art also allowed him into openly practice his alchemy, something he'd refrained from doing in public ever since his first soul transmutation centuries beforehand. Yet, the hollowness remained, and eventually, he had left her too - out of shame, out of fear for his two small children and their safety in light of Dante's reappearance in the south, out of, possibly, boredom. No one really knew. Hohenheim wasn't so sure he knew himself.

But Envy remained constant, never forgetting, never forgiving. The pain that sat in place of his soul was a gnawing, endless ache; once he'd learned that his immortal father had sired other children, children that he loved more than his first - that were healthy and strong - his hatred had grown. He would never forgive Hohenheim for his abandonment, for the pain he had suffered because of his greed for knowledge and scientific exploits and he never had. He forgot about the story that night; he forgot about the cranes. His mind refused to reminisce, to question his father's motives. He slept happily in a fever of ignorance and disgust, never waking, never resting from a cruel limbo of wicked vengeance.

However, now he was faced with the terrible truth that Hohenheim had not forgotten him as he'd sworn, bitterly, nor had he ousted every trace of him from his life. He'd kept the little crane, the remembrance of his son's stalwart will and strength to overcome the death that was slowly devouring his. His hope, his belief in his father's words - no matter how impossible they seemed, the proof that he'd once loved and lived, and now possibly the only spell - aside from a resurgence of the powerful alchemy that had almost blown the entire fighting party to bits in the bowels of Dante's mansion - that would be able to stop Greed. This tiny relic, this memento of the greatest ambition Envy's former body had ever employed - to wish away sickness, to stop pain and death… this was what would have once prevented Envy from hunting too close to his father. This was what had now, as the homunculus in Envy had been expounded and had become part of his cunning younger brother, been given as a father's protection of his son and granddaughter.

After more than four hundred years, Hohenheim of the Light had finally saved his son's life, and had done so _willingly._

Envy paced about the room arthritically for a few rounds of the carpet, gulping in deep breaths of air and blinking owlishly in attempt to hold in something very old and terrible - something that needed to suface in light of this new discovery, something that Envy thought had died within him, many, many years ago. A dry sob hit the air at first, and Envy gasped at the harshness of it, wiping his clammy forehead and wringing his hands fretfully, as though he was about to be sick. The force of his trembling caused his wounded hip to picket with his overwhelming emotions and, barking a gravelly, strangled moan, he sank to his knees, dizzy, weak limbs unable to support him. The room spun around him, light and colour suddenly posturizing into physical calamities: pressure and noise bombarded him, turning his lungs inside out and raking the knots in his gut with vicious teeth. Envy hunched over, pressing his forehead hard to the worn, circular mat, fingers scraping the shedding pile, and finally, he let the grief leave him in broken, rasping waves.

All that time, all that hate, all that energy wasted. Envy cried and cried, finally grieving the life that had been stolen from him, snuffed out and replaced by nothing but hollowness and pain, a hellish maelstrom of jealousy and abandonment that had earned Envy his true name. Oh, how he'd bragged to the old Lust that he hadn't anything to be envious of, when in truth, he'd detested humans for simply living their lives while his own had been snatched from underneath him before it had even really begun.

The unfairness of it, the sheer disappointment hit Envy hard, like a hammer to the chest, and he reeled with the sheer brunt of it, clutching his head and pouring his guilt and grief into the silence of the room on long, waving howls. And when his well of tears had run dry and his throat was sticky and sore, he drew his arms around himself, squeezing his stinging eyes shut for a few seconds as his head pounded with the ache of dehydration and strain. If felt as though something inside of him had finally snapped, that the last page had been turned and the book had closed for the final time. No matter what he'd become now, he could never return to what he had been - not now that he knew it was all a lie, cleverly constructed by his murderous mother. He had a new book to start on now, one that was light, and brightly bound with petal-thin, modern hot-pressed pages and a pen attached to the spine. It was a new life, and it could be played however Envy desired. And yet, in light of this discovery, this key to break the shackles that had bound him ruthlessly to Dante's whim, Envy found he was too afraid to even sign his own name. Once he made a mark on that paper… would that be it? And what would be to follow?

Interrupting Envy's thoughts came a light, broken little bleat from the direction of a rather tattered, ancient two-seater setee that Izumi had added to the room as a quiet place to feed the baby. Envy ignored it at first, content in beetling on the floor like a demonstrative illustration on a public service pamphlet for earthquake safety, holding his head as it seemed to be attempting to split in several different directions at once. But it persisted, gaining strength, a tone of obstinate necessity teamed with occasional, strained little coughs that eventually persuaded Envy's rigid muscles to slacken, unfolding him rather ungracefully onto the mat. He stared blandly at the couch, watching his daughter's tiny arms bat at the air as she called for him, unable to fully comprehend what it was he was supposed to do.

"I-I don't care about you," he whispered without a grain of conviction. "I d-don't. All I want is for all the… the… all the stupid humans to die out. Every single one. Then, homunculi will be the only ones left." The disquisition he'd stated many times before - most often to himself - had been his pep-talk of sorts, one of the few things that had kept him sane after returning from a mission soaked in blood and lies. He'd been so sure of it back then. It had seemed as solid as the steel-bound concrete foundation of the Central Military Headquarters, a building that had truncated Dante's aspirations and reworked them back into the system, into things humans wanted to hear. But now… as he spluttered to the close of his monologue:

"And that's when I'll be able to forget it… the reason why I was born! I'll forget… I will… b-because-"

Envy stalled, feeling the dreadful sob rise again, his hands twitching at his sides. Forget? What was he going to forget? The fact that Hohenheim had struggled blindly to bring his son back from the dead, because he too had not wanted his own taken away so unfairly. That golden man, that inattentive wanker - he hadn't been the best of parents at all. He couldn't remember a birthday, or bother to come home on time for dinner. He would break promises and scowl and would shut himself away sometimes for days on end. But he had, eventually, come back for his son. It had taken years, but as had Envy lain dying, Hohenheim had returned to repent. He might not have loved him, but there had been something about Envy's predecessor that had spurred the man to want to bring him back - regardless of the consequences. If Envy wanted, he might be able to believe that it was love. Of course, that didn't imply he might be considering an offer of forgiveness to the golden man, but essentially, the shock of Hohenheim's gift had set a number of of charges sparking in Envy's mind. It was one of the few truths Envy had never expected, and it prised open the floodgates that had been holding his own emotions in check; letting the strange humanness wash over him in a warm, welcoming tide. He was afraid of being mortal - petrified to the point where he would have run from it all. But he couldn't be scared - not of _her._He was stronger than that.

Slowly, he padded up to the infant, kneeling down before her, nervous, yet penitent, his eyes glued to the crinkled, pink face within the folds of the wrap. One arm curled around her, then the other, and before Envy knew it, he'd taken his daughter into a close embrace, burying his face into her chubby torso. Before he could even think about it, he was kissing her plump cheeks, touching noses and openly marveling this beautiful thing he'd created - this thing that was alive, responsive, and wonderfully, wonderfully his. He rocked her against him, gently, as he tried to twist his brain around the fact that _she_had grown inside of him, _she_had been the annoying occupant who'd dribbled his liver over to meet his spleen and had, on more than one occasion, gotten her foot stuck in his ribs. He had made her. He had actually created her… a feat that was surely grander than any product alchemy could fancy. Immediately, he felt the tears well again, and he almost began to weep at the sheer magnitude and magnificence of what he'd done - but he knew, deep down in the parts that _weren't_rapidly turning into some kind of sludgy detritus, that he would never cry again. Not like he had; never. And neither would she.

"It's all right," he whispered, breathing in her powdery scent, his lips brushing over the skin of her tight, tiny fists. "I was wrong. It's not your fault. It's not your fault at all. You won't have to hate me. I won't give you a reason. I don't promise a hell of a lot of things, but I promise you that."

And then the smile came, slow and weak through his tears, growing stronger as he held his child close, letting her take in his own scent a little, familiarizing. By the time Edward sloped apologetically into the room, Envy was leaning over the side of the cot, tugging up a smooth, pale, handkerchief-sized quilt over the sleeping baby, his fingers brushing against the smooth side of her chin. Ed licked his lips, linking his fingers to steeple them on the ledge of the cot as he joined Envy in a moment of quiet contemplation, before he had to ask,

"You… um… you okay?"

"Yeah." Envy didn't look up - he only sniffed a little and swiped under his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Don't worry about it."

"Sure?" Ed picked at the pile of the carpet with his toe, tongue prodding the corner of his mouth. "I mean… that was… Um… that didn't-"

"It was nothing. I said don't worry."

"Well." Ed shrugged, trying to look at Envy's face as though the pinkish blush and tear-stains weren't there. "Thanks, anyway - for putting her to bed. You really didn't have to, if you didn't want to."

"Sukie," Envy replied, hoarsely.

"Huh?"

"Sukie. Thanks for putting _Sukie_to bed."

"Who's Sukie?" Ed blinked, not realizing immediately how incredibly foolish he sounded. There were only three people in the room: one was himself, one was Envy, and the other…

"The baby," Envy breathed, letting his hand trail along the silk edge of the blankets before he met Ed's confused expression, his eyes so dark and turgid with tears, they appeared almost black. But despite the woe written over his features, he smiled again, licking his lips. "Sukie. That's her name."

Edward jerked a little, confused at first, then surprised that the ex-Sin had actually bothered to suggest a title for the girl; he really hadn't thought he'd been interested. Whatever had eventuated from his fit, it appeared to have finally knocked a little of the miserable narcissism out of Envy, and shoved a healthy dose of sense back in. Ed returned the grin.

"Does it mean anything?"

"Probably tons of things." Envy bounced his shoulders against the thin weave of his shirt. "I'm no expert. I just heard it a long time ago and liked it." That wasn't the whole truth, but it would do for now; Envy wasn't in the mood for lengthy anecdotes. As it was, Ed seemed pretty pleased. He had that pretty, good-natured smirk on his face that Envy had seen so little of in the latter stages of his pregnancy and the healing after his daughter's birth, and he wanted to bask in it a little longer.

"Sukie." Ed nodded, reaching down to take the baby's grasping hand. "Yeah. I like it. I don't think I could have come up with something that interesting."

"Probably not," Envy mumbled, smugly, yawning. "You alchemists aren't known for your creativity. You gotta leave that for us talented folk. Can't be good at everything, right?"

Time might've stopped there - not physically, but as a single moment recorded in the mind or in the heart; a memento of loss that had, at last, been replaced. It might have even started again, ticking away on a different watch, but such abstract assumptions had no place in the physical world. These things were simply for greater pondering, while time below just went on as it always had, indulging in a new piece only every so often - just for a little change. Clockwork wasn't easy to fix, but once all the cogs were working together in slick unison, it really was a marvellous thing.

_Come up and see me, make me smile._

_Or do what you want, running wild._

_- Steve Harley_

_**20/6/07: Due to University commitments, I am no longer updating this fic. Thankyou for reading!**_

_A/N: It's been far too long hasn't it? A real shocker of a break - and what a cliffie to leave on? All I can say is, dear readers: thankyou so much for your support and devotion to the fic. Hell, this thing is pretty damn long - I do appreciate you taking the time to read it and get involved in the story. Thankyou for the reviews - I shall be taking my time to go back through them and answer any lingering questions that aren't explained by this chapter. It seems we authors are further handicapped by FFnet regulations and can no longer post review reply commentary in our story posts. Well, fair enough... But understand this is why I'm not giving any shout outs._

_**A few points about D.H:**_

_**So... what was that bullshit about Envy's pregnancy? Ambiguous explanations are a bit of a cop-out, aren't they?**_

_But scientific jargon is naff and boring. Basically I've kept this idea open to audience interpretation - not as a cop out, but as more of an intergration; the characters don't know what really happened, not one hundred percent, so they guess and throw theories at it. And that's really as enlightened as we can get. After all - we're never actually told how the homunculi come into being during the transmutations; all we know is that there are necessary elements and that the Gate has a price..._

_**Nonpartisan Alchemist? WTF?**_

_A joke, mainly for those who have watched the Sonchou subs. No offence to the brilliant fansubbers, of course - but I always read 'Nonpareil'' (hundreds and thousands or sprinkles) instead of "Nonpartisan"._


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